For Her, For Us
by MyImmortal329
Summary: After the Greene farm is overrun, Carol and Daryl are left separated from their group. After weeks of searching, they find a new place to call home. Broken and weary from the events at the farm, an unexpected complication brings them closer together and helps them heal.
1. Whisky Warmth

Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead. All characters belong to the creators of the television series and graphic novels.

For Her, For Us

Chapter 1: Whisky Warmth

The night the Greene farm fell, the air had been so thick with smoke and the land so overrun by walkers that finding anybody in that mess had been next to impossible. Only, Daryl had found Carol, and together, they had ridden off in search of their friends. They'd stayed close to the traffic snarl on the Interstate for two days, seeing nothing but walkers passing by.

On the third day, hunger and dropping temperatures had forced them to move on down the road about ten miles, to another farm house that was relatively secluded and undisturbed.

It was a big, blue house with a wraparound porch and a barn filled with farming tools and possibilities. The sturdy, wooden fencing went all around the property, and there was plenty of room for growing food and maybe even keeping livestock, should they come across any. Daryl had quickly decided it would be a good place to hole up while they continued searching the surrounding area for any signs of their friends. Carol had readily agreed, and it had only taken them an hour to clear the property of the few walkers that had managed to get past the fences.

For three days, Carol took stock of the food in the pantry and cleaned the place up in hopes that they could bring everyone back and make this place their new home. While Carol had cleaned the place up, Daryl had gone out on his motorcycle, searching for hours on ended and coming back empty handed save for supplies and food.

Days turned into weeks, and Daryl stopped searching every day. Every day turned into every other day. Every other day turned into once a week. And when he did go, he started taking Carol, teaching her how to track, how to shoot, how to hunt. She was a fast learner, and before long, she was tracking just as well as he was.

On the night of the first snow, Carol was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of stew she'd made with the rabbit she'd caught and a can of carrots from the pantry. There wasn't much meat on that particular rabbit, but she did what she could with it, while Daryl made his way around the house stuffing rags up against the cracks of drafty windows.

The big old farm house was a cold one, and it took a lot of firewood to heat the place. There were three fireplaces. One in the living room downstairs, and one in each of the bigger bedrooms, the ones Carol and Daryl had picked out for themselves. It was a big, lonely house, and Carol often found herself humming to herself when she was alone, something, anything to fill the quiet that was so desperately lonely. It was a house built for a family, and while Daryl was a good man and good company to be around, he wasn't the most talkative person.

Carol dished out a few scoops of stew into two bowls and turned the stove off to preserve energy. The generator out back had plenty of fuel, but they were only using it to cook for now, keeping warm with extra layers of clothes and eating by candle light.

When Daryl stepped into the kitchen, Carol greeted him with a faint smile, and they both sat down to their meal.

"Sorry it's not much," Carol said softly. "Maybe we'll get lucky and find some squirrels tomorrow."

"It's good enough." He eyed her bowl and then his. There was a little meat and mostly carrots, but it was a hot meal and would tide them over until the morning.

"Bet we find a deer," Daryl pointed out. "You're a good tracker."

"I'm not that good yet," Carol chuckled.

"Don't sell yourself short. You're doin' fine." Carol blushed at his praise, and she ducked her head and took a bite of food. Daryl eyed her, watching the way she shied away from a compliment. He was sure she probably wasn't used to getting those, and it made him hate the memory of Ed Peletier even more than he had before.

He'd never seen Ed get physical with Carol, though he'd heard plenty about what happened down at the quarry. He remembered seeing small bruises on Carol's upper arm, too, like someone had squeezed her arm tight, leaving marks from their finger tips. But he knew enough about him from just talking to him that he was a sorry son of a bitch that acted more like a warden than a husband.

"Daryl?" Her voice brought him back to the present, and he gazed across the table at her. "I miss them."

"I know," he said quietly.

"I don't think we're gonna find them." Her voice cracked, and Daryl knew she was thinking about Sophia. He put his spoon down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He still felt the sting of seeing Sophia walk out of that barn. He still felt the guilt of trying to keep Carol's hopes up when there was no hope to be had.

"Even if we don't," he said quietly, "we're still here. We're breathin'. Right?"

"Right," she sighed, taking another bite. "We can still stay here. Right? Even if it's just us?"

"It's safe enough. 'Course we thought the old place was, too. We'll stay as long as we can. Just gotta be ready to move on if the time comes." Carol nodded and took another bite. They ate quietly until their bowls were empty, and Daryl was the first to get up from the table. Carol got up and started for the sink, but Daryl took her bowl from her. "I got it. It's gettin' late. Why don't ya get some sleep?"

"I'm too cold to sleep," she chuckled, moving over to the pantry. Daryl eyed her for a moment before turning to wash up the dishes. When Carol stepped up to the sink with her hands behind her back, he looked at her again.

"What'd you find?"

"A solution to our cold problem." She brought out a bottle of whisky and laughed. Daryl snorted and shook his head.

"Christ, it's been so long, one sip of that'll knock me on my ass."

"I'll get the shot glasses," she laughed. "Whaddya say?"

"One drink, and then we best turn in."

"One drink, and we won't be able to walk up the stairs," Carol grinned.

"Never took you for a drinker."

"It's been a while," she admitted. "I never really liked the taste of whisky, but I know one shot'll warm you right up." Daryl dried his hands off on his pants, and Carol stood on her tiptoes to search for shot glasses. She came up empty handed but found a couple of small glasses that would do the trick.

They blew out the candles in the kitchen and retired to the living room, sitting down on a pile of pillows Carol had tossed down in front of the fireplace. She reached for a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, while Daryl poured a couple of drinks.

"Thank you," she murmured, when he passed her a glass. She took a dip and made a face, and Daryl couldn't help the smile that twitched on his lips. He took a drink and felt the warmth spread through him as soon as it went down his throat. He winced and shook his head. Carol smiled.

"Jesus, that shit's strong." He shook his head. "If Merle could see me now…"

"You were close? You and your brother?" Carol took another sip, barely reacting now as the warmth began to spread through her body.

"He's all I had, you know? My mom, she died when I was just a kid. My old man was drunk more'n he wasn't, and when he wasn't, he was high. He was always fucked up, always findin' some excuse to use me or Merle as a punchin' bag."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I saw the scars. I know you didn't mean for me to. That night on the farm when you got hurt looking for Sophia." Daryl nodded. "I'm sorry nobody stepped in to help you."

"M'sorry nobody helped you," he echoed, looking over at her.

"You were just a kid," Carol pointed out.

"Somebody who's supposed to love ya ain't supposed to hurt ya. Don't matter who. Pain's the same." He cleared his throat.

"How long were ya married?"

"Twelve years." Daryl eyed her. "I was four months pregnant when we got married."

"So ya had to marry him?"

"No. I loved him. I did. At first. He wasn't always…" She sighed. "I tried to leave him a few times, but I…I kept going back." She shook her head. "He drilled it into my head that I needed him, that if I went out there, I'd never make it. And I had Sophia to think about. It was stupid."

"Wasn't stupid," Daryl insisted. "I know. They get in your head. Tell you you're useless, that you're shit, that you ain't never gonna be worth nothin' good. After ya hear it enough, you believe it." Carol reached out and put her hand on Daryl's arm.

"It's not true," Carol murmured softly. "I hope you know that. You've done so much for me. You tried so hard for Sophia, and that was…that was everything." She finished her drink and put the glass down. "If it wasn't for you, I never would've made it off that farm."

"Sure you would've."

"No," Carol said quietly. "You found me. You got me out of there. If it wasn't for you…" She looked away. "So don't ever think you're nothing." Daryl looked away. "Hey. I mean it."

Daryl sat back a little, feeling the warmth swirling through his veins and making his head swimmy. He felt something else, a tug in his chest, warmth completely unrelated to the whisky. He'd said terrible things to her when they were on the farm, and she'd forgiven him, and all he could do was wonder how this beautiful woman was sitting here saying these kind things about him.

"Never had to look after nobody but myself. Me and Merle were all we had, but he was gone half the time, and I was on my own. Then after Rick came along, Merle was gone, and I really was on my own."

"And almost as soon as he was gone, look what happened. You started helping out, you took it upon yourself to try to find Sophia. I remember how Merle talked to you at the camp. He treated you like a whipping boy, always shoving you around."

"It's all we knew," Daryl pointed out.

"I know. But you know what I mean. Having him around reminded you of all those times he wasn't there when you were a kid. When it was you getting beat on." Daryl nodded then, chewing at his bottom lip. "I know you love your brother. But the man you've become outside of his shadow is the kind of man that looks for lost little girls, that brings a flower to a worried mother, risks his own life to try to save someone else's. You're a good man. You're more than Merle Dixon's baby brother. I hope you see that." She took a deep breath, and she started to get up, swaying a little when she stood.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. I should probably go to bed." She took a few steps and stumbled, and Daryl got up as fast as he could to catch her. "Thanks." She laughed and put her hand over her face. "It really has been a while."

"Shit, I'm buzzed myself. Here. Sleep on the couch tonight. It's warm enough down here." He groaned when he felt his own head start to spin. "I think I'll take the floor. Got enough pillows down here." Carol smiled and sat down on the couch, tucking her legs up under her.

"You sure? The couch might be more comfortable."

"Nah, this is good." He added a few logs to the fire and lay back against the pillows.

"Good night," she whispered, lying back against the couch.

"G'night," he murmured back, rubbing his eyes tiredly as the whisky and exhaustion began to take effect. Carol smiled, watching as he pulled a blanket over himself, and she lay back against the couch, pulling the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter around herself. It didn't take long for sleep to pull her under.

...

It had taken Daryl a while to fall asleep. He'd tossed and turned thinking about what Carol had said to him. The fact that she had read him so well was unsettling, but at the same time, he felt like a weight had been lifted.

His relationship with Merle had always been complicated, and Carol was right. Merle always pushed him around, and in his own Merle way, tried to turn Daryl into what Merle thought a Dixon man should be. The only thing was, their father had been the biggest male influence in their life, and Merle had all but turned into him. The only difference was Daryl had never seen Merle raise his hand to a woman.

Sometime in the night, Carol had moaned softly in her sleep, and he'd looked over to see her brow creased in worry, saw her shaking her head just a little. He knew she was dreaming of Sophia. And it wasn't long, before he heard her whisper her name. He'd gotten up and put another blanket over Carol, and the action had been enough to calm her from her dreams. Her face had softened, and she'd sighed, and the rest of the night she'd been restful.

Daryl dozed off somewhere before dawn, and when he finally woke, it was fully light outside and the house smelled like bacon. He pulled the blankets off of himself and found Carol in the kitchen serving some shelf-stable bacon onto a plate with some fruit cocktail from a can.

"Morning," she said brightly, as Daryl scratched the back of his head and sat down to an already poured cup of coffee.

"Mornin'," he murmured. He took the cup in his hands, blew over the top and took a sip. He'd never been a coffee man before the turn, but even Carol could make plain black coffee taste good.

"Sorry there's no sugar," she murmured softly.

"S'alright. Maybe we'll find some today." Carol peeked out the window.

"You sure? Looks like more snow's coming." The previous night's snow hadn't amounted to much, but it seemed much more was on the way.

"Yeah, we got a big one comin', but I don't expect it'll start 'til tonight." Carol moved to sit at the table with him and took a bite of her food. "Might not hurt to get some more gas for the generator, too." He cleared his throat. "There's a pickup in the barn. If I can get it running, we can use it. Too cold to go out on the bike. 'Sides, you bag us a deer for supper, we'll need the truck to haul it home."

"You seem to have a lot of faith in my tracking and hunting skills," Carol laughed.

"Hey, you got a good teacher."

"Oh, get over yourself, Daryl Dixon." She flashed him a grin, and his heart skipped a beat. His face grew warm, and he ate another bite. They made small talk, and after breakfast, they cleaned up the dishes together before Carol went upstairs to put on warmer clothes for their adventure. Daryl headed out to the barn to see if he could get the truck started up.

Up in her room, she stripped out of the clothes she'd slept in and pulled on some fresh undergarments and a pair of warm socks. She matched a pair of khaki cargo pants with an oversized grey sweater, and by the time she heard the truck's engine roar to life in the barn, she had pulled a coat on and started down the stairs.

She grabbed a coat for Daryl in the closet downstairs and headed out onto the porch, pulling the door shut behind her.

Daryl pulled the truck up in front of the house, and Carol put her hands on her hips. He rolled the window down, and she shoved the coat through it.

"Did you have to drive through the front yard? Now we've got muddy snow tracks all through it." Daryl glanced in the rear view mirror, and he ducked his head.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Well, put your coat on. You'll freeze out here." Daryl eyed the coat, a bulky brown leather thing lined with fur. He quickly pulled it on, and despite the fact that it wasn't quite his style, it was warm, and by the time Carol climbed into the passenger's side, the heat was finally blowing out of the vents and warming the cab.

The roads were relatively clear, though Daryl drove slowly after hitting a couple of slick spots. Carol leaned back in her seat and stared out the window at the treetops glittering with ice in the morning sunlight. A smile tugged at her lips, and when Daryl glanced over at her, he noticed.

"I remember the first time my old man took me sledding. It was back before shit got bad. I was probably four. My mom—she'd wrapped me up in two jackets and a coat, and I was wearin' gloves two sizes too big. I looked like that little kid in that Christmas movie. Remember the one with the boy and the BB gun?" Carol grinned as Daryl talked. "Anyway, Merle wasn't there. It was just me and dad. And he took me to the tallest hill in the park. I'd been beggin' him for days to let me sled down it, and I never went sleddin' before in my life. Still, when a Dixon sets their mind to somethin', they're gonna do it." Carol bit her lip and grinned when she saw the happy memory glinting in his eyes.

"He let you go down it?"

"Hell, yeah. He told me I was gonna break my neck, but my stubborn little ass wouldn't listen. I got on that sled, and about halfway down, I hit a rock and went flyin' off the thing. And I just started yellin', and then I was rollin', and I saw my dad start runnin' and I knew my ass was in trouble. But when I stopped rollin', he just picked me up and laughed. Said I was lucky I didn't break every bone in my body."

"You weren't hurt?"

"Nope. Know what I said when he stopped laughin' at me?"

"What?"

"Can I do it again?" Carol laughed then, and Daryl smiled at the sweet sound. "That's the last good memory I got of him, 'fore the drugs and booze took hold of him."

"I'm glad you have that memory," Carol said gently, reaching across the seat to put her hand atop his on the bench seat. Daryl looked down at her pale fingers against his, and he dragged his gaze up to hers for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. "Sophia loved to ice skate."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah. She loved it. Couldn't get enough. It was my favorite thing to do when I was little, too, but Sophia was a lot better than me. There was an ice rink at a mall not far from the house, and Sophia would beg me to take her there every Saturday. I'd sit and watch her, and she just had so much fun. She'd beg me to skate with her, and sometimes I would. But other times, I just sat and watched her. I wanted to remember the happy moments. We had so few of them at home." Her smile faded. "I wish I'd done better. For her."

"You did the best you could," Daryl offered.

"Looking back, I did what I could," Carol agreed. "But I'm not that person anymore. The person I am now? I wish I could go back in time and tell myself how different things could be." She leaned her head back against the seat and sighed. Daryl swallowed hard and kept his eyes on the road, and as they drove on, he was thankful for the peaceful quiet of her company.


	2. Lost and Found

Chapter 2: Lost and Found

They'd run into a small store about twenty miles from home. While many things were picked through, Carol managed to find some canned food as well as some tools and clothing. Daryl grabbed ammo and the last shotgun that had been hidden away behind some boxes. He figured whoever had left it there had been planning on coming back but never made it.

On the way back toward home, Daryl pulled off on the side of the road, and together, he and Carol trekked into the woods with weapons drawn, searching for something, anything that could fill their bellies for the night. While a deer was ideal and could feed them for days, even a few plump squirrels would be better than nothing.

"Gotta stay quiet," he whispered, as they settled down to sit on a fallen tree. "Just sit a while. Listen."

"What am I listening for?" she whispered back.

"Just listen." They sat until the cold began to seep into their clothing chap their skin, and finally, Carol let out a huff when a branch cracked someplace close by. "You hear it?"

"Bigger than a squirrel," she murmured. "Walker?"

"Nah. Listen." Another crack, followed by the rustling of branches on a bush. Daryl pointed off in the direction Carol was looking, and moments later, a doe walked into view with her nose rutting at the ground.

"You take this one," Carol whispered. "You're better than I am." Daryl shook his head and handed her the crossbow.

"This one's got your name on it. You got it." Carol sighed and shot him a look that warned him if they went hungry tonight, it was his fault. But he just smirked at her and nudged her shoulder to urge her up onto her feet. She drew the crossbow up, finding her footing as she balanced herself with the heavy weapon in her arms.

Daryl stayed a few steps behind her, keeping an eye out for any potential dangers while Carol focused on the hunt. His hand was on the knife on his belt, and his eyes scanned all around.

Carol's breath was shallow but steady when she stopped within about fifteen yards of the animal. She adjusted her hold on the crossbow, aiming and tensing her finger against the trigger. She took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, releasing the trigger and sending the bolt flying at her target.

Her eyes went wide when the deer went down, and she started to take off running, but she felt Daryl's hand curl around her wrist.

"Wait," he urged, holding her back as the deer's shallow breaths slowed to a stop.

"Daryl?"

"Just…wait." In a moment, two walkers descended upon the creature, ripping into its sides and pulling out clumps of meat and entrails. Carol winced, and Daryl tugged at her hand. "C'mon. Let's get back to the truck." They hurried off toward the road, lungs burning and legs aching, and by the time they pulled themselves into the cab, Carol let out a grunt of frustration.

"Damn it. I had it!"

"You did good. Just wasn't meant to be."

"When did you see the walkers?" Carol asked.

"'Bout a half second before you pulled the trigger."

"Shit," Carol muttered. "I was looking forward to venison." Daryl chuckled, but a sound in the distance quieted him. "Daryl?"

"What the hell is that?" He rolled down the window, and Carol furrowed her brows. Moments later, the noise came again. A howl and then a bark.

"Is that a dog?" Carol asked. Daryl quickly took his crossbow back from Carol, and she raised her eyebrows. "I'm not _that_ hungry." Daryl shot her a look, but he started up the truck.

"Comin' from up there." He nodded toward a cluster of cars about a half mile down the road. "If there's a dog, maybe there's food. Maybe he's tryin' to get at it." Carol nodded then, shivering and leaning into the heat that came from the vents. Daryl steered the truck closer, and it wasn't long before a big, brown and black German shepherd came out from behind one of the cars. It stopped as soon as Daryl pulled the truck up to the group of cars. "Stay here."

"Daryl, be careful. It could be rabid." Daryl nodded then, and he opened the door, stepping out with his weapon drawn. The dog barked at him, but it didn't seem threatening or threatened. It whined and pawed at the ground before running back around the vehicle. Daryl wiped his hands over the frosty car windows, peeking inside for any sign of food or supplies that would be useful to them.

The dog whined again, and Daryl glanced over toward the SUV it was circling. The vehicle was still, but the way the dog was behaving, Daryl wondered if there wasn't food—or worse—a walker inside. He made his way from car to car, opening doors and quickly tossing things around in search of something useful. He came up with nothing, and when the dog let out another whining yip, Daryl raised his crossbow and took a few steps toward the SUV.

First, he noticed the windows weren't frost covered, and as he approached the front of the vehicle, he put his hand on the hood to find it was still warm. It was then that he noticed the man slumped over the steering wheel. He looked back at the car, where Carol was watching him nervously, and he held his hand up with his palm toward her as if to tell her to stay put, and she gave him a nod.

The dog came over to Daryl then, startling him by pressing his nose against Daryl's leg.

"Hey, get," Daryl warned. The dog whined and moved away, but he didn't run. Then he saw the back driver's side window was open about half way, enough for something to get out but have a hard time jumping back in. He looked down at the dog. "This where you came from, huh? Tryin' to get back inside?" The dog barked, and Daryl reached for the driver's side door.

The first thing he noticed was the empty pill bottle on the floor board. Next, he noticed the key was still turned in the ignition. It was then that he realized the man must've let the car run for heat until the gas gave out and then taken the pills as a last ditch effort.

He reached over slowly, putting his hand against the man's neck. The skin was still warm to the touch, but he was dead. Daryl drew his hand back and pushed the man away from the steering wheel. His head fell back against the headrest, eyes open and glassed over. Daryl realized the man had opted out rather than wait for the dead to get to him.

The dog quickly jumped back into the vehicle, over the dead man and into the back seat.

"S'alright. Dog ain't sick. Just wanted back in the truck." Daryl waved Carol over, and she quickly got out of the vehicle. She took her knife from her belt, sliding her fingers through the knuckle guard, keeping it ready just in case.

Daryl started for the back of the vehicle, popping the hatch to find a box full of shelf-stable food. Carol moved around to stand beside him, and she looked into the vehicle to see the dog nosing at something on the back seat.

"You sure the dog's alright?"

"Yeah, a little cold and hungry, but he's ok. Must've got out to chase a rabbit and couldn't get back in."

"Poor thing," she murmured, clucking her tongue. "Here. I'll take this." She grabbed the box of food and started back to the truck with it, while Daryl looked through the rest of the things in the back. There was a small duffel bag off to the side, and when Daryl opened it, his stomach sank. There were diapers, blankets, clothes and cans of formula inside with some other things.

"Jesus," he muttered.

"What?" Carol asked, coming back from the pickup.

"Ain't nothin'," he muttered, zipping the bag shut. "You wanna get outta here?"

"We should check the back seat. There might be something…" Just then, a raspy snarl gurgled up from the dead man's throat, and Carol took a step back from the car. Daryl raised his crossbow again, getting between Carol and the SUV as the dead man stumbled out of front seat. Foam came from between its lips, residual from the overdose, Daryl knew, and the teeth gnashed and fingers clawed the air. Shuffling steps inched closer, and Daryl raised his crossbow, sending a bolt right between the thing's eyes.

It fell to the ground, and Daryl retrieved the bolt, wiping the blood off with the dead man's shirt.

"Daryl?"

"Let's get outta here," he muttered, as the heavy realization that it wasn't just a bite that would turn a person after death hit him square in the chest.

"The dog," Carol murmured softly. "We can't just leave him, Daryl." He glanced at her, saw the worry in her eyes, and he slung his crossbow over his shoulder.

"What the hell are we gonna do with a dog?"

"He'll starve out here."

"Like we're starvin' now?"

"We're not starving," Carol insisted. "We'll make do. Besides, there's plenty of dog food in the barn at the house." He wasn't sure if it was the little smile on her face, the brightness of her eyes of the pinkness of her nose and her cheeks that had his knees feeling like jelly, but in that moment, he wanted to give her whatever she wanted. He felt a tug in his heart, and he sighed.

"Alright, we'll take the damn dog." She grinned then, and Daryl opened up the back door. "C'mon. You wanna freeze to death out here or go home with us?" The dog whimpered and continued nosing at something on the back seat. Daryl sighed and looked at Carol. "Well, you comin' or ain't ya, dog?" The dog began to whine, and Daryl reached into the back of the car, grabbing the dog by the collar and pulling gently. "C'mon." The dog whined louder, and Daryl sighed, dragging it out of the back seat.

"What's wrong, boy?" Carol asked, kneeling down to pat the dog's head. He whimpered and licked her hand, and Daryl looked back into the car to find out what the dog was so concerned about. When he pushed through the piles of clothing on the seat, he wasn't certain what he was expecting, but he took a step back and stopped the dog from jumping back into the car. "Daryl? What is it?"

"Jesus," he muttered. The dog started barking again, and Daryl leaned in, peering at the tiny face sticking out from behind a soft, pink blanket. He tore the blankets back, revealing a tiny infant wrapped in warm clothes and swaddled tight. It was red-faced and whimpering weakly from where it was tucked in a basket on top of some other blankets.

"Daryl, what…" He gently lifted the little one into his arms and threw a glance to Carol over his shoulder before pulling the child out of the vehicle. He cradled her awkwardly, and Carol gasped, staring at the child.

"Oh God," she whispered. "Is it…"

"Alive," he assured her. "Cold and probably starvin'." The dog put his paws up on Daryl's arm, sniffing at the baby, and Daryl nudged him down. "We gotta get it somewhere warm." He reached out as if to hand the baby to Carol, and she froze for a moment, flinching before she took the child into her arms. "You ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Let's get home." Daryl went back to grab the duffel bag from the back of the SUV, and he and Carol made their way back to the truck. Daryl let Dog in to sit between them, and as the heat began to blow out of the vents, Carol unwrapped the baby enough to find a note pinned to one of the blankets.

"What's this?" she murmured, unfolding the paper slowly. She read the words and placed her hand over her mouth.

"What's it say?" Daryl asked, glancing at her before turning his attention back to the road. Carol took a shaky breath and bundled the baby back up, holding it close to her chest. She handed the paper to Daryl and closed her eyes, softly soothing the baby as it began to cry.

_Please protect her. I couldn't. Her name is Lydia._


	3. Lydia

Chapter 3: Lydia

It was mid afternoon when they arrived back at the farm. Daryl parked the pickup back in the barn, and the dog shot out of the truck, running in wide circles around Carol and Daryl as they took the baby into the house.

Daryl sat the duffel bag down on the couch once they were inside, and once he had a fire going in the hearth, he headed outside to bring in the rest of the supplies they'd scavenged. The dog followed him, and Carol unwrapped the baby on a pillow in front of the fireplace.

She remembered Sophia being that tiny and guessed the girl was only a few weeks old. She was tiny but well fed, and Carol guessed that up until her father had taken his own life, he'd tried to do right for her. Why he'd suddenly decided to kill himself when he still had food, a vehicle and his child was beyond her. She couldn't imagine leaving an innocent baby to starve and freeze to death in the middle of winter. Looking down at her, she felt tears prick at her eyes.

"It's ok," Carol whispered, taking the layers off the baby. The diaper she wore was soiled, and Carol quickly changed it and dressed her in fresh clothes. She swaddled her and then set about making a bottle.

She grabbed a can of formula from the duffel bag and a bottle of water. She rummaged around until she came up with a clean baby bottle in the bottom of the bag. She made a half bottle and began to feed the child, and by the time the little one had drank two ounces, Daryl was coming back in, rubbing his hands and blowing in them for warmth.

"Started snowin'," he muttered, letting the dog in before he shut the door.

"Did he eat?"

"Yeah. Like a horse," Daryl snorted. "Did his business, too." He looked at the baby. "How's she doin'?"

"She's so tiny, but she's got a good appetite. That's a good sign. I think she'll be ok." She nuzzled the top of the baby's head with her nose. "What kind of person leaves their baby to die? She can't be more than a few weeks old. Poor thing probably lost her mother during the birth."

Daryl shifted his weight from foot to foot, and he chewed his bottom lip.

"She got enough food?"

"Hmm, enough for a few days, but we're going to need more."

"Alright. That store we hit up this mornin'. Pretty sure I saw some of them cans of powdered milk there. Gonna head back and grab 'em."

"Daryl, no! It's snowing. You said yourself it'll be a big storm."

"I'll take the bike. I'll get there faster and be home 'fore it really starts to stick."

"Daryl, she's got plenty."

"For a few days, ya said. What if we're snowed in for a week?"

Carol glanced down at the baby. She knew he was right. But, she hated the idea of him going out there alone.

"I'll be home 'fore dark."

"Be safe," Carol murmured. He nodded then, and he started for the door. He turned just before he left, and watched the way Carol gently cradled the baby, the way she smiled down at her before looking up at him with worry.

"You gonna be ok with her?"

"Yeah," Carol whispered. "We'll be just fine." With one last glance back at Carol, Daryl turned and left the house, telling the dog to stay before shutting the door. The dog obeyed and curled up to nap in front of the fireplace.

Carol lay the baby down on the couch, putting a pillow on each side of her for safety, though she seemed to be too young to attempt to roll over just yet.

She started pulling things out of the duffel bag. There were just the basic necessities which led Carol to believe when Lydia's parents had fled their home, they'd grabbed what they could and left the rest behind.

Tucked into the side of the bag was a baby book, and Carol placed her hand against her heart, remembering filling out Sophia's. She'd never been good at keeping a diary, but she had been diligent about filling out Sophia's book. Everything from her first day of life to her third birthday was filled out, and that was the one thing Carol regretted not grabbing when they'd fled Atlanta.

Carol began to flip through the book, and to her surprise, a few pages were filled out. She sniffled and scooted closer to the fire for light and began to read.

"_You were born three weeks after we fled Birmingham. Your mother knew you were going to be a girl. She just knew. And that night you came, she held you close, and she named you Lydia. You have your mother's eyes and my hair. And you earned her stubbornness, certainly._

_Lydia, if you're reading this, I may not have raised you. You may not even be here. I may not be. But in case you are here, in case you are reading this, you probably wonder what happened to your mother. The truth is, I'm still not sure. She changed. We both did. A week after you were born, you woke me up, crying, and she was gone. I looked for her, everywhere. But she's gone. I want to believe she's still out there, that she'll come back for you, but just know that before, she was a strong woman, and she loved you fiercely. I only hope I have the strength she had to keep you safe. Love, Dad."_

Carol wiped at the tears that brimmed in her eyes, and she sniffled. Shaking her head, she picked the baby back up.

"You know, I think I remember seeing a cradle in the attic when we cleared the place out. Would you like that, Lydia?" The baby was fast asleep, making a sucking motion with her mouth, a little dribble of formula on her chin. Carol wiped it away and carried the baby upstairs. She placed her in the center of her bed and put pillows all around her before starting a fire in the hearth. The room began to warm quickly, and Carol closed the door before heading up to the attic.

It was cold and dusty and filled with cobwebs, but Carol stepped carefully around piles of boxes, searching with her flashlight for the cradle she remembered seeing that first day they'd found the house.

Under an old sheet, there was an old wooden cradle, and it looked like something from the pioneer days, but it was better than nothing.

She carried the heavy piece of furniture carefully down the stairs, dusting it off before taking it back into her room and sitting it in front of the fireplace. She folded a few small blankets to pad the bottom before putting the baby inside.

"There. Your own bed." She gently rocked the cradle and peered down at the sleeping infant. She remembered those first few nights with Sophia, when she'd been so tired that when Sophia cried, she cried, and she honestly thought she was the worst mother. Having little support from Ed had been worse, but somehow, she and Sophia had survived those first days, weeks, months. Now, as she sat peering at this stranger's child, her heart broke. The grief came in waves. Many days, she was able to get through it without crying, but then there were times when she would break down thinking about how scared Sophia must have been out there in those woods all alone. She only prayed the end came quick, that she didn't suffer.

With a shuddering gasp, Carol picked herself up off the floor and covered her mouth with her hand. She took a step back and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and feeling the pain wash over her again. In this moment, the wound was fresh and she felt the pain of collapsing in Daryl's arms, watching Sophia walk out of that barn.

She lay back on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest and fighting the sob caught in the back of her throat. But it was no use. Another shuddering breath broke her, and she sobbed against her pillow and prayed for sleep.

When Daryl returned, the house was dark, save for the glowing embers in the living room hearth. Daryl tossed his pack onto the couch, emptying it of the ten cans of baby formula he'd found. He stepped into the kitchen to find the stove cold and no food out, and worry immediately set in.

The dog looked up from his spot in front of the fireplace and yawned before lowering his head again. Daryl hurried up the steps, following the warm glow that came from Carol's room.

When he stepped inside, he saw her curled up asleep on the bed while the baby slept in the cradle near the fire place. Daryl stepped quietly over to the hearth and added a few logs to the flames. He knelt next to the cradle and peered down at the baby sleeping there. He hadn't spent much time around babies, and this one in particular looked so tiny and fragile. He was almost afraid to touch her.

He stood then, moving toward Carol's bed. She was shivering in her sleep, and he quickly pulled a quilt over her. His stomach grumbled, but he didn't dare go down to the kitchen and risk making noise and waking them up. Instead, he crept out of the room, closed the door and headed down the hall to his own room.

His muscles ached as he changed out of his wet clothes and boots. He slipped into a pair of sweats and a white T-shirt and collapsed on the bed, groaning as he rolled onto stomach and sprawled out.

He hadn't run into much trouble on his run, but the snow had really started coming down about five miles from home. He'd gotten worried he was going to get stuck in the snow, not that he'd ever tell Carol that, but he had been determined to get back to her.

He never thought he'd be the kind of man who'd look forward to coming home to somebody. He'd always figured he'd be alone the rest of his life, maybe letting his big brother crash on his couch from time to time, but then the world went to shit, Merle was gone and he found himself looking forward to waking up in the morning just to sit down at the table and have breakfast with her. He liked her company, and maybe part of it had something to do with the fact that she knew something about being used as a punching bag. They'd both been through things in life that they'd never wish on another person, and they'd gotten through it. They were scarred, but they were breathing.

He was weary, and it didn't take long for him to drift off to sleep, however his eyes flew open the minute a wail pierced the air from down the hall. He sat up in bed and listened to the footsteps coming from Carol's room. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and he stepped out into the hall. He could hear her whispering softly to the infant, and when the door opened, he watched her pause in the doorway with the baby in her arms.

"You're home," she breathed softly. "I must've fallen asleep. How did it go?"

"It was fine. She ok?"

"She's just hungry again," Carol murmured. "I'll make her a bottle."

"Can I help?"

"Sure," Carol smiled. They started down the stairs, and Daryl flinched with each step, imagining Carol losing her footing and going flying down the steps with the baby in her arms. He reached out and gently put his hand against her arm as they walked, and Carol smiled to herself. "I've done this before."

Daryl tossed all the cans of formula into the duffel bag and carried it into the kitchen. He handed Carol the one that was already open, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw what he'd brought home.

"Daryl, you found all of this?"

"Yeah. How long you think it'll last?"

"A couple weeks, maybe, at the rate she eats. We'll need more, but this is a great start." She shifted the crying baby in her arms, and she held her out to Daryl. "Can you hold her while I make the bottle." Daryl stared at the baby for a moment, and Carol bit her lip to suppress her smile. "You held her earlier. Come on, you won't hurt her." Daryl took the baby in his arms, and she squirmed, red-faced, feet and hands moving as she fussed.

"Yeah, well, she was quiet earlier. Didn't know they squirmed so damn much." Carol laughed, and she started fixing the bottle. "She's awful red. That normal?"

"Sophia turned so red she was almost purple once. She was crying so hard. I thought she was choking, but she was just really pissed off."

"Jesus," Daryl muttered.

"Don't worry. She'll be quiet as a mouse in a minute." She nodded toward the table in the corner. "Go sit down." She shook up the water and formula mixture in the bottle.

"You want me to…"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Ain't fed a baby before."

"It's not rocket science," Carol teased. "Don't worry. You'll be fine." Daryl carefully moved across the kitchen and sat down at the table. Carol brought the bottle to him and handed it to him. "Just support her head." Daryl shifted the baby in his arms, and he brought the bottle to the baby's lips. In moments, she quieted and began to eat, and Carol folded her arms across her chest, smiling smugly at Daryl. "See? You're a natural." She sat down across the table from him, and Daryl glanced up at her.

"Feels like I'm gonna break her."

"You won't," Carol promised. "You're doing fine." She propped her chin in her hand and smiled as she watched him. Daryl looked at her again.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked. "I mean…" He looked down at the baby.

"I wasn't about to leave her out there, Daryl. It brings back a lot of memories. It hurts. But she's so tiny and helpless. She needs us." Carol watched his gaze move back down to Lydia, and she got up from the table. "You must be hungry. I'll make us something to eat."

"Don't know how this is gonna work," Daryl said quietly, as the dog came padding into the kitchen, curiously nudging Lydia's foot with his cold, wet nose. The baby grunted as she sucked her bottle.

"Me either," Carol admitted. "But we'll make it work, right? She needs us."

"Yeah," he murmured.

"Oh," Carol said quietly, opening a can of soup and pouring it into the pan on the stove. "I did find out something about her."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Her mother disappeared."

"What?"

"Yeah, it was something her father wrote in her baby book. She just disappeared. I don't know if she just got up and walked away in the night, or if a walker got her. I honestly don't think he knew."

"Think she's still out there?"

"Don't know. She came from Birmingham. If her mother's still out there, she could be anywhere."

"Guess it doesn't matter now, huh? She ain't here." Carol nodded then, stirring the soup in the pan. She sighed and gazed out the window where the snow was coming down heavily. She turned back to watch Daryl with Lydia, watching him carefully cradling her as she finished her bottle. He gently squeezed one of her little feet. He looked in awe if not still a little terrified, and the sight made Carol's heart leap in her chest.

Ed had never had much interest in helping with Sophia. He'd always left the feedings and changes to Carol while he went out drinking with his buddies. He spent many nights away from home in the beginning, before Sophia slept through the night, and there had been many times Carol had felt like tearing her hair out. But she'd gotten through it, and she never thought she'd be in this position again, caring for an infant. She was just glad that, while nervous and uncertain, Daryl was willing to help out.

When Lydia was finished with the bottle, Daryl went to hand the baby back to Carol. She gently took her in her arms and patted her back, while Daryl went to the stove to ladle out soup into two bowls. Carol carried the sleeping baby back upstairs, and when she returned to the kitchen, she found Daryl putting something on the table. Chocolate chip cookies. Carol smiled.

"Where'd you get those?"

"Saw 'em under a shelf when I went for the formula. Remember you sayin' you liked 'em."

"God, I haven't had one in…" She grabbed one and took a bite, closing her eyes and savoring the sweet taste, despite the fact that the cookies were on the stale side. "That's so good." She moaned softly and licked her lips. When she opened her eyes, Daryl blushed, and she smiled at him. "Thank you."

"Don't spoil your supper."

"Hey, you never know what's going to happen. Might as well enjoy dessert first, right?" Daryl's mouth quirked up in a little smile at her logic. She had a point. "Have one. It's good." She held a cookie out to him.

"Nah, I got 'em for you." He held his hand up, but Carol narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't care much for dessert, anyway."

"No dessert? Come on, there must be something sweet you like." It had come out a little more suggestive than she'd intended, and Daryl felt his neck start to burn.

"Nah," he grunted, taking a spoonful of soup in his mouth. He looked up at her again, catching the grin that spread across her face. He couldn't help the little laugh that caught in his throat. "Just eat yer damn cookies, woman." She settled down across from him, putting her cookies to the side and taking a bite of soup. And as they sat there in the easy quiet, Carol felt like somehow, everything was going to be alright.

_Author's Note: Feedback is very much appreciated! Thanks!_


	4. Morning

Chapter 4: Morning

A good eight inches of snow blanketed the earth by morning. Carol was exhausted when Lydia woke her just before sunrise, but she got up, changed her diaper, fed her a bottle and put her back to bed. The house was quiet, and Daryl was still sleeping, so Carol took advantage of the cool morning and took a nice warm shower.

The steam swirled around her, a comforting blanket as she washed. She ran her hands over her skin, tracing the pale lines on her lower belly, a constant reminder of the baby she once carried. She moved her hand up her ribs, feeling each one without effort, a reminder of her hunger and of the realities of this new world. When she washed her hair, she found she could take small handfuls of it now. It was still short but growing out, curling at the ends, and it had been so long since she'd let it grow out she almost forgot how thick and wavy her hair had once been.

She wasn't the same woman Ed Peletier had charmed all those years ago. She also wasn't the same woman she was with him at the end. She was learning to take care of herself, and that was all thanks to Daryl. She knew part of the reason he was teaching her and showing her what he knew was because, in this world, like the last, there was a fair possibility that he wasn't always going to be there to help her, and the last thing he wanted was to leave her helpless and alone.

As she stood there under the stream of warm water, she cursed herself for not throwing herself into those woods after Sophia herself. If only she'd known the things then that she knew now, she might have even been able to find her. She hated that it was such a short time ago, that if it hadn't been for Ed telling her how worthless she was and how undeserving of love she was, she might have found the confidence and courage to do something to help.

Daryl hadn't hesitated though. He'd spent more time looking for Sophia than anyone else, and it ate at her sometimes, how he'd gotten hurt looking for her, how he could have died. But he'd picked himself up a few days later and tried to go out again. She'd told him she couldn't lose him, too, and while that had been true then, it was even more certain now. Losing him was not an option. His company was everything, and he had stuck by her, patiently helping her become the woman she was now, and he probably had no idea what a hand he had played in the whole thing.

After her shower, she toweled off and dressed, and after she checked on the baby, she headed out into the hall to find Daryl's door was open. She could hear him rummaging around in his room, and she bit her lip, stepping up and knocking on the door frame. Daryl looked up from where he sat on the edge of his bed with his boots in his lap.

"Morning," she offered with a smile.

"Mornin'," he murmured sleepily.

"You hungry?"

"You ain't gotta make me breakfast all the time," Daryl pointed out.

"I know," Carol laughed. "And no offense, but if you were in charge of the cooking, we'd starve."

"Hey, I can cook."

"Squirrels and possums don't count," she teased. "How do you feel about oatmeal?" Daryl made a face. "Beggars can't be choosers."

"Nah, oatmeal's fine. How's the kid?"

"Fed, changed and sleeping again."

"They supposed to sleep that much?"

"Yeah, for the first couple of months, they usually do. Trust me, be glad she sleeps, otherwise, neither of us would be getting any." She paused. "Sleep I mean." If Daryl had taken her words as otherwise intended, he didn't let on. He put on his boots and stood.

"Thought I'd try and bag us a deer today."

"Have you looked outside?"

"Nah."

"Well, you might want to." She nodded toward the window, and he stepped over. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed.

"Hope you got plenty of that oatmeal."

"Strawberry and apple cinnamon," she offered with a smile. Daryl grimaced but nodded, and she laughed. "I'll meet you downstairs." She turned and left, and Daryl watched her walk away. For a moment, he'd almost forgotten it was the end of the world. She was happy this morning. She was laughing and teasing him, and it was nice. He was surprised she was so chipper considering their new house guest.

Who was he kidding. This kid was going to be a permanent fixture. Her dad was dead, and her mother probably was, too. Nobody was going to be putting her picture on a milk carton. Nobody was going to be searching for her. The child was alone. Abandoned. An orphan. And they'd brought her home. She was their responsibility now.

He'd never thought about having kids. He'd told himself he wouldn't be adding to the Dixon gene pool, and while Merle probably had at least a half dozen brats out there he didn't even know about, Daryl felt it had been the right choice. What kind of father could he possibly be with his asshole dad as a role model?

The thoughts consumed him for a moment. Was he actually going to raise this child? With Carol? They hadn't had a choice in the matter. It was save the kid or let it die, and no matter what kind of nightmare world they were living in, there had only been one option. The kid had a chance now, but what did that mean for them? They knew how this new world worked. They were adapting. But this kid was brand new, and she was going to cry, and sometimes that was going to come at the wrong moment. They were safe on the farm, but they couldn't take her out there. It wasn't safe. But if they had to leave and take her out there, how long would they last?

The thoughts were still swirling in his head when he made it down to the kitchen. Carol was just spooning out oatmeal into two bowls when he sat down at the table and poured a cup of coffee.

"You ok?"

"Huh?"

"You're thinking awful hard about something," Carol said quietly, sitting down across from him. "You ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah." He took a bite of oatmeal, and he glanced at her. "Not bad."

"It's better than nothing," she shrugged. "What's on your mind, Daryl?"

"Just ain't never had nobody dependin' on me before." He looked toward the ceiling.

"That's not entirely true. I'd be dead if it wasn't for you." Daryl eyed her. "I know you think that's not true, but the truth is, you're the only person that gave me hope. Even when I knew she was gone, you still tried so hard to give me hope. You wanted to believe as much as I did that she was alive." She gave her a little smile. "The baby thing is getting to you, huh?"

"Just don't know much about 'em. They cry, and…"

"Cry and eat and have no idea all the noise they make can draw walkers from miles away. We're safe here, right?"

"Yeah. Fences here are stronger than Hershel's farm. Still, we might wanna think about buildin' 'em up." Carol nodded then.

"We haven't talked about them. Not for a few days. You don't think they're still around, do you?"

"I figure they probably found a place to hold up for the winter just like we did. I figure they'll scavenge what they can 'til they feel like it's time to move on." Carol sighed softly and put her spoon down on the table.

"Do you think they looked for us?"

"Ain't no need to think about that. Either they did or they didn't. Got a much bigger group, had a kid and a pregnant woman to take care of. Either they're together, or they're scattered. Don't make much difference now, I guess. We're still here. We're breathin'."

"We are," Carol agreed. "Is this what it's going to be? You and me? And her?" She nodded toward the upstairs.

"That such a bad thing?" he asked. Carol flinched.

"Of course not. I just thought…" She shook her head. "Nevermind."

"What?" Carol shifted in her seat.

"What about people? Building a community. Finding others?" She watched him nod his head and take another spoonful of oatmeal. She knew he was thinking about Randall and how it was hard to trust people in this world, especially strangers. "Do you think there's anything out there like that?"

"What? Like a safe zone?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe," he murmured, stirring his spoon around his bowl. "Could be, but it ain't here." Carol nodded. "You wanna leave?"

"Honestly? This feels like home," she whispered. "But who knows what's out there? Who's out there?" She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm happy here, but someday we may need to move on. If you ever want to leave…"

"I ain't leavin' you. We been in this since the beginning, and I ain't gonna leave you now." Carol's heart thundered in her chest. "Come spring, if you wanna leave, just say the word. But you ain't goin' alone. You ain't never gonna be alone so long as I got breath in my lungs." She watched his face flush at his own words, and she smiled.

"Thank you," she murmured. "I wasn't fishing for some kind of confirmation, but I do feel better." She laughed softly, that beautiful laugh again, and she took another bite of her breakfast.

Upstairs, the baby began to cry again, and Carol started to scramble from her chair. Daryl held his hand up and got up from his seat.

"I'll get her."

"You don't have to."

"Hey, I don't want ya to think ya have to do everything for her," he said quietly. "I know you're a mom, but ya don't gotta carry this all by yourself." Carol relaxed then, feeling the tears prickling in her eyes again. She blinked them back and looked away before he could see the shine in her eyes.

"Thanks," she said quietly. She watched him go, and she smiled as she took another bite of breakfast.

_Author's Note: As always, feedback is appreciated!_


	5. The Sleeping Situation

Chapter 5: The Sleeping Situation

The next few weeks passed by slowly. Winter had settled in, and the bitter cold and heavy snow made supply runs difficult. Carol hated him leaving like he did for a day or two at a time, but she knew that he was the one with the most experience and the most ability to get out of a jam if necessary. So, she stayed home with Lydia, caring for her and the dog while Daryl took the pickup to find food for them and for the baby. Diapers were running low, so Carol had fashioned a few cloth diapers and only used the disposables when necessary.

Lydia seemed to grow a little more each day. She was rolling over now, first from her tummy to her back and then with a little practice, the opposite way. Her hair was growing in, thick and dark, and from what Carol could tell, she was completely healthy.

On the days Daryl was home, they'd settled into a routine. Carol would keep her with her at night, and then in the morning, Daryl would tend to her while Carol worked on breakfast. He was getting to be a pro at changing diapers. They would trade off on caring for her through the day, and then, in the evening, Carol would take over, while Daryl spent time checking the perimeters and even hunting in the woods off the property.

It was an easy partnership, and the more they got to know each other, the more Carol would tease him. It was never mean or spiteful, but she sure loved making him blush.

The truth was, she felt comfortable with Daryl, more comfortable than she'd ever felt with any man. She supposed it was their common histories of being abused that made her feel so close to him, but whatever the case was, she really liked him. She found herself thinking about him more than she cared to admit, and sometimes those thoughts ventured into territory that was more than friendly. A part of her felt guilty thinking of him that way. She figured that nothing would ever happen. Nothing had happened yet, and with Daryl, it was hard to tell what he was thinking half the time. If he had a similar attraction, he certainly hadn't said anything about it, not that he would. He was a man that kept to himself, even when he wasn't alone. It was positively frustrating.

On this particular morning, Carol was finishing up the breakfast dishes, and Daryl was feeding Lydia in the living room. Dog had successfully begged for the last scraps from Carol's plate, and he was now begging at the door to go outside.

Carol propped the door open for him to go out, and she stepped into the living room. Daryl was sitting on a quilt on the floor in front of the fireplace, and he had a soft toy in his hand, shaking it in front of Lydia's face.

"What're you doing?" she laughed, kneeling down on the floor next to him.

"She ain't smilin'."

"She will."

"You said she smiles at you."

"She does sometimes. Sometimes I think it's gas," she giggled. Daryl huffed.

"I don't think she likes me."

"What? Of course she does. She goes right to sleep when you hold her. You're the baby whisperer."

"Pfft."

"I promise. She likes you. Maybe she only smiles at me because I'm the first one that pops a bottle in her mouth in the middle of the night." She shrugged. "Don't take it personally." Carol reached down and tickled Lydia's belly, and the baby let out a giggle and smiled wide.

"Yeah, see? She likes _you_," Daryl pointed out.

"Aw, are you jealous?"

"Nah," he grunted. Carol nudged his shoulder.

"Trust me. She'll smile for you. She's just picking her moment. She'll catch you off guard, and you'll love it." Daryl stared at Carol skeptically for a moment, and she smiled. "You'll see."

"Oh, hey. I got somethin' for her on the run last night. Didn't wanna bring it in 'cause it was big and probably woulda made a lot of noise."

"What is it?"

"Got her a crib. She's gettin' too big for the cradle. Thought maybe she could have her own room, that one across the hall from yours, maybe. I don't mind gettin' up to help with her. Thought you might sleep better if she had her own room."

"Yeah? Do you want your own room, Lyddie?" Carol asked, getting a giggle from the baby girl. "Hmm?" She smiled. "Oh, it might be a little cold for her. Don't you think?" Daryl's chewed his bottom lip. "Maybe when it gets warm, she can sleep in there, but I'd be afraid she'd get too cold."

"Yeah, didn't think about that."

"It was a really nice idea, but you're right about the crib. She's gonna outgrow the cradle soon."

"Alright. I'll bring it in. You want it in your room or mine?"

"Mine's fine. My room's bigger, anyway."

"Just didn't want ya to think ya had to keep her in there." He ducked his head a little, and Carol smiled.

"Go get it. I'll put her down for a nap, and I'll help you bring the crib upstairs." Daryl nodded and started out the door, while Carol gathered the baby up. She went back to the kitchen, where Dog had let himself back inside, and she shut the door. She pat the dog's head and took the baby upstairs to put her down in the cradle.

Just as she stepped out on the porch, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the cold, Daryl slid the heavy box out from the back of the pickup.

"You ever put one of these together?" he asked, grunting as he got his booted foot under one side of the box for leverage.

"Yeah, and I was nine months pregnant at the time. But that was nearly fourteen years ago." Daryl nodded. He could take a motorcycle engine apart and put it back together again. How hard could a crib be?

"Fuck," he spat, tossing the instructions down on the floor. Carol bit her lip and tried not to laugh. "The hell language is this shit in anyway?"

"Here. I think this piece fits into this one," she offered, lifting another piece of wood up and holding it out to Daryl. They had half the crib put together, but Daryl was struggling with the side pieces.

"Thanks," he muttered, trying the piece and finding it was a perfect fit. "Shoulda just let you do it."

"Yeah, well, I enjoy having someone to build it with. Ed bought it, complained about the price and then told me I wanted it so bad, I had to build it myself."

"Prick," Daryl muttered.

"Yeah." Carol handed him another piece. They worked together quietly for a few minutes, and Daryl finally looked up at her.

"You doing ok?"

"What?" Carol asked quietly.

"You just…you're up a lot. Ya don't sleep much."

"I sleep," she insisted.

"Is it the baby keepin' ya awake, or…"

"Dreams," Carol said quietly. "I dream a lot. About Sophia. About Ed." Her shoulders slumped. "And sometimes I just can't sleep, because it still feels strange to sleep alone." Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. "I know. It sounds..." She shook her head. "When you're used to sharing your bed with someone and then suddenly, they're gone. It takes some getting used to. Even though I hated him, even though I was terrified of him, it was still the only normal I knew."

"I get it," he said quietly. He figured it was the reason that even after his old man died, he still missed the good times, the times before the abuse started. He wished he could remember those days more clearly, the days when he was little and got to just be a kid.

"Sometimes it's the baby," she admitted. "I look at her and I remember Sophia, and it hurts. She looks nothing like her, but I look at her, and I feel this love that I swore I could never feel for another child." She sighed. "When Sophia was three, I thought I was pregnant, and I was terrified. I didn't want to bring another baby into that life. Thankfully, it was a false alarm. I didn't want another baby, I told myself I couldn't love another child. Maybe because I thought it'd be easier, if I had to…" She looked away. "Thankfully, I never had to make that choice." She shook her head. "Sometimes I look at Lydia, and…"

"She feels like yours."

"Yeah," Carol choked out, blinking back tears.

"That's alright."

"I know," she whispered. "I just feel…I feel like it's wrong somehow."

"Ain't wrong to love her. Somebody's gotta. And I don't think Sophia'd mind it at all." Carol chuckled then and brushed her tears away.

"Yeah, she did always want a baby sister."

"Ain't nobody gonna replace Sophia. She's always gonna be your little girl. But it ain't so wrong to make room for another one. She ain't got nobody else, ya know?"

"That's not true. She has you, too," Carol murmured, meeting his gaze. Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat, but before he could say anything, Lydia started crying in her cradle. "Want me to…"

"Oh no," Carol laughed. "You have fun with the crib. I'll take my chances with the dirty diaper."

Carol gently lay Lydia down in her sturdy, new crib. She looked so tiny laying on that mattress, and Carol smiled down at her.

"Sweet dreams, Lyddie," she whispered. She added a couple logs to the fire and retired to her bed. She climbed under the covers, smiling as the warmth enveloped her. She had always hated the cold and was always grateful for a mild Georgia winter. This winter was brutal, but of course, so was the world, so it was quite fitting.

She was just dozing off, when she heard a loud crash, followed by Daryl coughing and cursing. She sat up in bed, throwing the covers back, and she rushed to her door. Thankfully, the baby had been completely undisturbed by the commotion.

"Daryl?" she asked, looking out into the hall. Daryl's door swung open, and he walked out in a cloud of smoke. "Daryl?! What happened."

"Somethin' must've got in the chimney. Room's full of smoke." He shut his bedroom door, and Carol scrunched up her face at the smell. "Shit. I'll sleep downstairs."

"Uh, Daryl? I used the last of the firewood in my room." Daryl sighed.

"S'alright. I got blankets."

"You can sleep in my room."

"It's ok. I'll just…" Carol rolled her eyes.

"Daryl, I won't bite. But you might want a shower first, because you smell like _you_ fell in the chimney." She didn't give him time to respond before she turned and walked back into her room. He stood there for a few moments, pondering his choices, but the truth was, he was freezing and sharing a bed with her wasn't the worst thing he'd ever heard of. In fact, he'd had a couple of dreams about that very thing just a few nights ago. The fact that she'd so casually invited him to share with her had his pulse thrumming and his blood running hot. He wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed him staring at her all the damn time, but it happened more often than he cared to admit. She was beautiful. From her stunning blue eyes to the freckles that dotted her pale skin. He'd fantasized about tasting her lips on more than one occasion. He wasn't proud of it. He'd been falling for her since the farm. He knew it, even if he wouldn't admit it. She'd made him look at himself in an entirely different way, and while it had scared him and maybe pissed him off a little at first, she was the only one that had looked at him, looked past the scars and the asshole behavior and saw who he was under all of that.

A noise from Carol's room broke his train of thought, and he rushed back to his room to grab a fresh pair of clothes. He cracked the window open to let the smoke out, grabbed a fresh pair of clothes from the closet and hurried off to the bathroom to shower.

He took his time in there, mainly because from the second the warm water washed over his skin, he let himself relax enough to think about her. And it wasn't long before he started getting hard, and he had to quickly turn the water cold to try and remedy the situation.

Thankfully, by the time he finished cleaning up, he had his hormones in check, and he toweled off, got dressed and padded down the hall to her room.

She was in bed when he walked in, and he suddenly realized that he had no idea what he was doing. It wasn't like she was expecting anything of him. It was just sleeping. But to sleep next to her, in her bed, with her smelling like her and looking as beautiful as she always did, he was nervous, trembling.

"Aren't you cold? Get over here." He hadn't even realized she'd been looking at him. The fire cast shadows about the room and over her slender form, and when she sat up in bed, he swallowed the lump in his throat that turned into a knot in his stomach. He watched her scoot a little closer to the side of her bed, and she pulled back the covers for him. He moved to the other side of the bed and stiffly sat down before laying back against the pillow. Carol tossed the covers over him, and he let out a slow breath." Carol rolled to her back for a moment before turning her face toward his. "Relax." He cleared his throat and willed himself to unclench his muscles. Carol rolled onto her side, facing him, and she put her hand against his arm. "Are you ok?"

"I can go…if you don't…"

"Nah. It's ok. I just ain't used to…sleepin' next to somebody."

"It's ok," she murmured. "I guess that's also something that takes getting used to." She lifted her hand from his arm and tucked it under her pillow. They lay there, staring at each other for the longest moment, and then Carol tore her gaze away, rolling to her other side, away from him. He lay there, staring at her back until her breathing evened out and slowed, and when he was sure she was sleeping, he pulled the blanket up a little further over them both, closed his eyes and hoped his sleep would be dreamless.

_Author's Note: As always, feedback is appreciated! Thanks!_


	6. Almost

Chapter 6: Almost

Daryl woke sometime in the night to a gasp. His first instinct was to grab for his weapon, but then he realized they were safe and the house was locked up tight. He rolled to his side to find Carol's shoulders shaking with ragged breaths, and she was whimpering softly into her pillow.

He reached over, gently touching her shoulder, and she jerked awake. She sat up, hand against her chest, and she ran her hands over her face. Her eyes were wet from tears, and when Daryl sat up next to her, she startled as if she wasn't expecting him to be there.

"You ok?" he asked softly, his voice gravely from sleep.

"Yeah," she panted, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Bad dreams."

"Sorry," he murmured. "Can I do anything?" She shook her head and let out a shaky breath. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No." Carol threw back her covers and got out of bed. Daryl lay back down against the pillow and watched Carol step over to the crib to check on Lydia. She leaned over it, her hands shaking against the railing. She paused then and stood up straight. He watched her from where he lay across the room. She paced in front of the fireplace for a moment, wringing her hands.

"Hey." She stopped and looked at him. "What can I do?" His voice was soft, inviting. Carol felt the tension begin to ease, and she took a step toward the bed.

"He had his hands around my neck, squeezing the breath out of me," she murmured.

"Ed," Daryl realized. She swallowed hard, and Daryl pulled the covers back. "Come back to bed. Don't let that prick win. You lost enough sleep over him through the years, I imagine." Carol smiled sadly and nodded her head. "Know it's easier said than done. But ya gotta start tryin' somewhere, right?"

He watched her shift with unease, hugging her arms around herself. He scooted over as far as he could on the bed, and she finally came back, crawling under the covers and laying back against her pillow. He didn't know what the hell he was doing when he brought his arm down across her pillow. His heart thrummed in his chest, and his blood pounded at his temples. And it only took her a few moments to turn toward him and lift her head. She looked at him, and he brought his arm around her shoulders.

She was shaking then, and the moment his hand grazed her arm, she let out a ragged breath and shifted to rest her head against his chest.

"You cold?" he asked, knowing it was a stupid question. She shook her head, but he pulled the blankets up around them anyway.

Her hand rested just over his heart, and he was sure she could feel his racing pulse against her fingertips. But if she did, she didn't say anything. Instead, she curled her fingers against his shirt and sighed.

They lay like that for a long while. Daryl stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance across the ceiling as the fire burned in the hearth. Soon, she stopped trembling. And then her breathing slowed. When all the tension eased from her body and her head felt heavy against his chest, he knew she was sleeping. He pulled her a little closer, and she sighed against his skin.

He didn't sleep well. He dozed from time to time, but every move and every sound she made woke him right back up. He would hold his breath and hope she wasn't having another bad dream. But then she'd relax again when he would squeeze her arm, and they went back and forth like this for what seemed like hours. Finally, somewhere before dawn, Daryl dozed off into a heavy sleep.

Sometime in the night, Lydia began to fuss, and Carol woke first. She sighed softly and moved away from him gently so she wouldn't wake him. She went to the crib, leaning down to check Lydia's diaper. She was dry, but Carol knew that cry was a hungry cry. She was learning all of these little noises and cries, and while Daryl often had no clue what the little one wanted, Carol would hand him a diaper or a bottle, and he'd just look at her in amazement.

Lydia fussed a little louder, and Daryl stirred in the bed.

"She ok?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

"Yeah, she's just hungry. I'll get a bottle."

"Here. Give her here. No use takin' her all the way downstairs."

"You sure?" Carol asked softly. Daryl motioned for Carol to bring her over, and she did, placing the whimpering infant in Daryl's arms.

"Hey. S'alright. You hungry?" he asked. The baby's cries grew louder, and Carol chuckled.

"I'll be right back," she promised.

Daryl watched her leave, and he settled back against the headboard. The fire crackled in the hearth as he rocked Lydia back and forth gently in his arms.

"Hey," he murmured. "Hey, you don't wanna cry, do you? What you got to cry about? You got a warm bed, somebody to feed ya anytime ya squall for it. You got it made, kid." He gently touched her nose. She craned her neck back, wailing a little louder, and he chuckled. "Hey, I know. I ain't so good at this yet, but Carol? Yeah, see, she's already a mama. She's real good at this. I know ya know it, too." The baby's fussing quieted just a little, and Daryl nodded. "See? It's not so bad. Yeah. You're gonna be ok."

Carol was just shaking up the bottle and heading up the stairs when she heard Daryl whispering to the baby. She bit her lip and crept up to the door, placing her hand over her heart.

"M'sorry 'bout your parents. This ain't a world built for everybody. But ya know what? Just 'cause they're gone don't mean you're alone. "'Cause me and Carol? We're gonna do right by you. Mmmhmm. We're gonna make sure nothin' happens to ya. Gonna make sure you're ready for the world out there." By this point, Lydia was peering up at Daryl, soothed by his low voice. Carol bit her lip to keep from giggling when Daryl laughed. "See? Ain't no reason to cry. You're gonna eat soon, and you'll feel all better. You like that? Huh? Yeah, Carol's bringin' you a bottle. She'll fix you up. She's good like that." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead just as Carol stepped back into the room.

He heard the floorboards creak under her feet, and he looked up to see her smiling at him as she walked over.

"The baby whisperer strikes again," she teased.

"Pfft, she probably smelled the bottle comin' from a mile away."

"She's a baby, not a bloodhound," Carol snorted, getting back in bed and scooting over to sit next to him. She gently caressed Lydia's head and handed Daryl the bottle. Lydia took to the bottle quickly, making little grunting sounds with each swallow. Carol giggled, and Daryl looked up at her.

"Lyddie the piggy," she cooed, leaning down to kiss the baby's forehead. When she lifted her head, she met Daryl's gaze, and she sighed softly. Her heart skipped a beat. There was something in his eyes, something in the way he was looking at her just then, and it almost took her breath away.

She flush of heat in her cheeks gave her away, she was certain, because Daryl's gaze shifted, and for a moment, she swore he was staring at her lips.

Her throat went dry, and she swallowed thickly, wetting her lips with her tongue. A moment later, Daryl leaned forward, just barely, and the sweetest noise rose up from the bundle in his arms. A laugh. It was enough to distract them both from what had almost happened, and Carol swore she saw his own face flush pink. But when they looked down at Lydia, the baby was grinning around her bottle, milk trickling from her mouth as she let out a little giggle.

"Oh my God, she hasn't laughed before," Carol cooed. "Listen to that!" Daryl took the bottle from Lydia's mouth and wiped the spill from her chin. She grinned a wide, gummy grin at him and wrapped her little fingers around his thumb. "And you said she didn't like you. What do you have to say for yourself, now?"

"Kid's got terrible timing," he snorted, barely able to contain the grin that spread over his face. "Hey, you. You been holdin' out on me with them smiles, huh?" Lydia giggled again, and Daryl popped the bottle back in her mouth. "For a eatin', poopin', machine, she is kinda cute after all. Think she kinda likes me."

"See? I knew you'd grow on her," Carol teased. Daryl nudged her shoulder with his own, and for the next little while, they watched Lydia finish her bottle, both in awe of how much joy this tiny little person could bring, even in this nightmare world they were surviving in.

And once Lydia was sleeping soundly once again, Daryl put her down and returned to bed, and without words, Carol curled up against him, and dreams soon pulled them under again.

_Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is always appreciated!_


	7. Questions

Chapter 7: Questions

When Carol woke the next morning, Daryl was already out and about for the day. He'd left a note on the kitchen counter saying he was going out to hunt and that he'd be home later to see if he could fix the issue in his fireplace.

The cold snap had lifted enough that the blanket of snow on the ground was starting to turn to slush, but it was still cold enough that Carol trudged out to the barn to bring in some more firewood. She kept a fire burning upstairs and in the living room, and she made sure to keep Lydia nice and warm.

While Lydia slept, Carol headed into Daryl's room, crinkling her nose up at the smell that still lingered in the air. She shivered and went to close the window he'd left open, and she gathered up all of his clean clothes that smelled strongly of smoke, and she took them down to the basement where there was a washer and dryer hookup. Carol rarely used it, opting to hand wash their clothes, preserving the generator power for cooking. But, she knew no amount of hand washing was going to get the smoke out of Daryl's clothes. So, she threw them in, added a bunch of soap and softener, and she started the wash.

When she returned upstairs, she checked on Lydia and settled down onto the couch with a book in her lap. However, she found she couldn't concentrate and quickly gave up on trying to read and instead opted to lie back on the couch and close her eyes for a little while.

The moment she did that, her thoughts went back to the night before, to laying in his arms, to feeling so many things all at once that she hadn't been prepared for. She'd pushed her feelings for Daryl deep down since the farm. She'd once been so full of hope that they would find Sophia, that in finding Sophia, maybe they would find each other. It wasn't that the two ideas went hand in hand, but the idea of Daryl, who'd gone so far out of his way to try to find her daughter, could look at her in such a way that she found herself breathless was something that always lingered in the back of her mind. But then Sophia hadn't been saved, and for a while, he'd been so angry. At first, she'd thought he was angry at her, that he blamed her like she blamed herself. It took a while for her to see that he was only angry at himself, that his attempts to help her and her daughter and to give her hope had amounted to nothing.

And since the Greene farm, since they'd come to this place, since they'd started caring for Lydia, their relationship had grown stronger. They talked many nights until the late hours, and now, with Lydia, they took turns caring for her, found joy in the little things. Sometimes, when they were sitting together, doing nothing, just talking and playing with Lydia, it felt like what she'd always wanted with Ed and Sophia. But her dream of a happy, loving family had been ripped so violently from her that sometimes it still took her breath away that her life was so drastically different in a world that was dying.

Many times, she tried to talk herself out of it. She tried to tell herself that Daryl didn't think about her like she thought about him. But last night, something had changed. The way he held her had been one thing. He had been gentle and thoughtful, a far cry from the hot-headed, smart-mouthed kid brother of Merle Dixon she'd met at the quarry. And then, there had been a moment when she was certain he was thinking about her. She'd thought, for a moment, he'd wanted to kiss her. She had brushed it off when Lydia broke up the moment with her adorable giggles. But now, as she thought back to that moment, to the way Daryl's gaze had softened and something in his eyes had changed, she wondered.

Her pulse quickened when she heard the sound of heavy boots on the front porch. When the door opened, sat up a little on the couch to see Daryl come through the door, shrugging off his coat and placing it over the back of a chair before putting his crossbow there.

"Hey," he said with a nod.

"Hey," she echoed, laying back against the couch and folding her arms behind her head. "Any luck?"

"Naw. Had a buck in my sights, but a walker scared him off."

"Walker?" Carol asked quickly. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah. Just one. Nothin' to worry about. You two alright?"

"Mmmhmm. Oh, I've got your clothes washing downstairs. They smelled like they came out of a charcoal factory."

"Thanks," he offered with a little laugh. "Figured I'd work on the fireplace some."

"You don't have to," Carol offered. "I don't mind to share another night." She blushed at her own words, and when Daryl met her gaze, she swore she saw something flicker in his eyes. She cleared her throat and got up off the couch. "I should start lunch." She turned then and started for the kitchen, but just as she reached the cabinets, she heard his footsteps behind her.

"Want some help?"

"If you want," Carol offered with a little shrug. When she reached up to open a cupboard, his hand reached up at the same time, and her fingers brushed his. She pulled her hand away, and he narrowed his eyes at her. "Sorry."

"You ok?"

"Hmm?" she asked, raised her eyebrows. "Yeah. I'm ok."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." She gave him a weak smile, and she stepped away from the cabinet to check the pantry. Daryl folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the counter. When Carol returned, she paused with a couple of cans of stew in her hands. The way Daryl was looking at her, she was certain he was going to press her to talk, but thankfully, Lydia had incredible timing and began to cry in the other room. Carol let out a soft sigh, and Daryl rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'll get her," he offered.

"Thanks." Carol quickly went about heating up the stew on the stove, and when Daryl returned to the kitchen, he was holding a very alert baby in his arms.

"She's up. Don't think she's hungry. Think she just wanted to see what everybody was doin'."

"Hi, sweet girl," Carol cooed. Daryl held the baby against his chest with her back leaning against him. She was just able to hold her head up a little, and when she saw Carol, she kicked her legs excitedly. "You're so happy!"

"Gonna have to get her a high chair or somethin' soon. Won't be long, she'll probably wanna eat here in the kitchen with us."

"Maybe a swing, too. Sophia loved her baby swing." She smiled. She shook her head, and her smile faded. "Are we crazy here?"

"What?"

"Talking about high chairs and baby swings, when there are probably walkers less than a mile from where we're standing?"

"We're safe here. She's safe."

"Maybe we're getting too comfortable here." Daryl narrowed his eyes at her, and she turned back toward the stove.

"You wanna leave?"

"No," Carol sighed. "I don't want to leave. I guess I'm afraid that we'll get so used to being here that if something does happen, we'll go out there, and we'll make a mistake or…let our guard down."

"With a kid in tow? Nah. Look, if this place goes to shit, we'll find someplace new. We'll keep her safe." He bounced Lydia in his arms. "We're all she's got. We're enough, right?" He glanced up at Carol, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah. I think we are."

...

They hadn't talked about it. Not once. But after the sun went down, Carol gave Lydia a little bath and bundled her up, tucking her in her crib before adding a few logs to the fire. She'd taken a shower and headed to bed, all the while hearing Daryl tinkering around in his room.

She'd sat up for a while, reading until her vision began to blur, and she started to doze off when she heard the shower turn on again. She bit her bottom lip and got cozy under her covers. She wasn't sure what to expect. She wasn't sure if he'd join her. After all, he'd brought in another arm load of wood from the garage that evening, and there was no reason he couldn't just sleep downstairs in front of the fire, but Carol was practically holding her breath in hopes he'd come back to her.

She began to doze off again, and it wasn't until she felt the bed shift around her that she stirred. She froze for a moment, cracking one eye open to see Daryl sitting on the edge of the bed. She bit her lip and tried not to make a sound. She let out a slow breath, and Daryl finally lifted up his legs and slid under the covers. When he lay back, Carol slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. He looked nervous, but he slowly relaxed against the pillow, and he stretched his arm out above hers. She bit her bottom lip, and when Daryl pulled the blanket up over them both, she curled up against his side. She rested her hand against his stomach, and she felt the muscles jump under his shirt. They both held their breath for a moment, and Carol lifted her face toward his.

"Is this ok?" she asked. He swallowed and nodded but said nothing. "Ok." She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. His hand gently curved around her hip and pulled her closer. His fingertips grazed the skin where her shirt had lifted up a little, and she felt him freeze. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips where his fingertips brushed her skin. She hadn't expected to be ticklish, and he moved his hand away.

"What?"

"Nothing," she laughed.

"Shit. What'd I do?"

"That tickled. I'm sorry. It's ok," she whispered.

"Do you…"

"I just…"

"Sorry."

"Sorry. Go ahead."

"Nah. Just…I can go if it's…"

"No, please stay." She bit back a smile, and Daryl nodded. She curled her fingers into his shirt and took a deep breath. His hand was back on her hip then, and a spark shot through her. She gasped softly, and Daryl drew his hand away again.

"I should…"

"No. I just…" She sighed in frustration, and she pulled away from him, rolling onto her back. Daryl rolled to his side, trying to look her in the eye.

"What's goin' on?" Carol shook her head. "What? Tell me."

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"Wh…" He nearly choked on the word. Carol felt her stomach drop, but the damage had been done.

"Last night, I thought maybe you wanted to. I just…" She shook her head and covered her face with her hands. "Don't…I…just forget it." She rolled onto her other side, and she heard Daryl swallow and then shift on his side of the bed. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, feeling her face flush with embarrassment, but when she felt his hand on her other hip, she opened her eyes, and she turned onto her back to find him leaning over her.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Hey," she whispered back. He stared at her for a long moment, and she trembled when she caught his gaze focusing on her lips. She brought her hand up, gently stroking his cheek, and then, he leaned down to press his lips against hers.

_Author's Note: As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you!_


	8. Right

Chapter 8: Right

She sighed against his mouth, opening up to him as his tongue slid across her lips. She brought her arm around his neck, pulling him closer as he crawled over her. His hands moved down her waist and held her hips and she moaned when his tongue brushed against hers. His lips were soft but slightly chapped, and he moaned when she tugged his bottom lip gently between her teeth. She smiled against his kiss, and a flood of warmth spread through her chest, down her belly and straight to her core.

Her hands moved down his arms then, and she gasped softly when he settled down over her, his pelvis flush against hers. She spread her legs a little, letting him get closer, and her hands moved up the back of his shirt, stroking over the scars on his back. He groaned against her mouth, the rough stubble on his chin chafing against her cheek when he broke the kiss to bury his face against her neck.

"Daryl," she panted, squeezing her eyes shut tight as her body thrummed with life and need and hunger. She was embarrassed at how her core was already throbbing, how her body was craving him, how every time his lips brushed her skin, she imagined what it would feel like for him to push all the way inside of her, filling her, pushing her over the edge.

She arched her back when his teeth nipped at the hollow of her throat, and suddenly, her hands were on his shoulders, not pushing him away, but pushing him onto his back. His head fell back against the pillow, and his licked his lips, staring up at her as she crawled over him, kissing him hungrily, her mouth hot against his as his hands caught the edge of her shirt. She gasped when his fingertips trailed up under her shirt and overt her back, and her hand moved down his chest and to his stomach, fingers curling into the gaps between his buttons. Her fingertips stroked his lower stomach, and an unmistakable groan escaped his lips.

"Fuck," he panted. "Carol…" She smiled against his lips again, and Daryl's hands moved down her back and over her ass, giving her a little squeeze. She pulled back a little, and she saw the blush in his cheeks. Then she saw the doubt in his eyes. "Sorry…"

"It's ok. I like your hands on me." And just like that, she saw the fire return to his eyes, and he pulled her back down, chasing her lips when she pulled back for a breath. His hands were as eager as his mouth was. The way he kissed her, the way he touched her with shaking hands was enough to tell her that he wasn't very experienced but was willing to learn with the right partner. It surprised her, the way his lips and tongue and teeth could be rough and chafing one moment but tender and sweet the next. His trembling fingers tickled her skin one moment but left her feeling dizzy and warm the next.

She pulled back when his thumb hand slipped up her shirt, palming over her breast, his thumb teasing the nipple. He pulled his hand back like he'd touched fire, and Carol grinned at him.

"You really want to do this?" Carol whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. Daryl swallowed hard when she pulled back, and the heat in her gaze matched his. His tongue felt thick and dry, and the way she was looking at him, the way her body moved against his, he suddenly realized he might not be able to please her like he wanted to. "Daryl?" He nodded then, but he shifted underneath her.

"I…ain't…" He cleared his throat. "I ain't done this much." He blushed furiously, and Carol smiled.

"It's ok." She kissed him again. "Will you touch me again?" He nodded and licked his lips, and she reached down to pull at the hem of her shirt. She lifted it over her head, and Daryl's gaze shifted to her bare breasts, her nipples stiff peaks, aching for his touch. She took his hand and guided it to her breast. Her head rolled back as he rolled her breast in his palm, teasing the nipple before bringing his other hand to her other breast. She dropped her head forward then, shoulders slumping as she leaned into his touch, and when she shifted her hips, she felt his arousal against her thigh.

It was exhilarating, knowing he wanted her like this. She certainly hadn't expected a kiss to go this far, but she wasn't fighting it. The truth was, it had been so long since she'd felt desired, since she'd felt such desire for someone else. Tomorrow wasn't promised, and the last thing she wanted to do was deny herself something good in a world with so many uncertainties.

His hand moved up her back, gently putting pressure on the back of her neck to bring her down for another kiss. She sighed against his mouth, digging her fingers into his hair as he broke from the kiss to trail his lips along her jaw and neck. She bit her lip and arched her head back when he sucked at the hollow of her throat. And then he was nipping along her collarbones, and sparks flew through her veins. She panted softly when his tongue slid over her nipple, teasing it before closing his mouth over it briefly. She moaned when he wrapped his arms around her and flipped her onto her back, and when she lay back against the pillows, he buried his face between her breasts. She stroked his hair and closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his skin against hers.

She bit her lip when he pressed open mouthed kisses under her breasts and then above her belly button. She giggled when his stubble scratched over her lower belly. She tugged on his shirt then, and he looked up at her. She smiled at him and urged him to come back up and kiss her, and he did. He took his time, kissing up the valley between her breasts, up her neck and then teasing her lips and tongue with his own. Her hands began to twist into his shirt, tugging at it until he pulled back and helped her slide it off of his frame. She sighed softly, running her hands over the scars, old and new, gently touching the fading, pink circular scar from where he'd injured himself looking for Sophia. Her smile faded then, and she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. He brought his hand to her chin, guiding her face toward his, and he kissed her, soft and slow.

She started reaching for the drawstring on his sleep pants, and he put his hand over hers. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"Don't have anything," he murmured, panting as he stared down at her.

"That's ok," she promised.

"Whaddya mean?" Carol blushed and she reached into her bedside drawer, pulling out an unopened box of condoms. Daryl snorted.

"When'd you sneak those in there?"

"They were here when we moved in," she laughed, covering her face in her hands. "They're not expired, either."

"Even better." Carol laughed at that, and she lifted her hips, wiggling out of her sleep pants. Daryl groaned, and he tugged his pants down, and Carol barely got a glimpse of his erection before he shifted to kick his pants off the bed. She laughed when one leg got caught on his foot, and he contorted himself around to pull it off.

"You okay up there?" she teased.

"Stop," he grumbled, hushing her with a kiss. She sighed then, melting into his kiss. She closed her eyes and got lost in the taste of his mouth and the feel of his lips against hers. She heard the crinkle of a wrapper and felt him shift to slide the condom onto his shaft, and then his fingers were tugging at her underwear. She raised her hips and let him slip them down, and then he was settling between her legs. She gasped the moment she felt him slide against her. His hand came between them, and she cried out when his fingers slipped through her slick folds. He groaned at her warmth, and she cried out when his thumb brushed over her clit.

"Daryl!" She reached for him, tugging at his shoulders to pull him down for a kiss. He obliged, and he pulled his pelvis flush against hers. She moaned when he pressed into her, squeezing her eyes shut tight when he pushed inside.

He dropped his head to her shoulder, groaning as her hot, tight walls pulsed around him. She was digging her nails into his shoulders, and he was squeezing his eyes shut so tightly he was certain he would never see again. Still, it didn't matter, because in that moment, he swore he never felt anything better.

He also knew it wasn't going to last. His nerves were coiled up so tightly, it wouldn't take much to set him off. He wanted it to be good for her. He wanted more than anything to see her come before he did, but if memory served him right, luck wasn't on his side. Still, he was a man on a mission, and he was determined to get her there one way or another.

He began to move, rocking his hips against hers slowly, and her knees pulled up, her thighs squeezing around his hips, and his hand moved between them, fingers toying with her clit and driving her crazy.

"Faster," she panted, tightening her arms around his neck as she buried her cries against his mouth. "Please. Daryl…" He reached up to the headboard with one hand for leverage and began to move faster, feeling every moment slipping away from him faster and faster. She was clenching around him, hot and wet, and she was arching her back and crying his name. But he knew it was almost over.

"Fuck," he panted, and she audibly gasped at his absence.

"No, Daryl, what…" Before she could finish protesting, he rolled her onto her side, and to her surprise, he spooned right up behind her, spreading her legs open just enough he could slip back inside. She cried out at the change of angle, and she stretched around him, crying out as one of his hands came up to tease her breast and the other moved between her legs. She gasped, arching her back again, resting her head against the crook of his arm as the heavy, aching throb in her core finally burst in a powerful orgasm. She cried out as he thrust into her faster, muscles aching as he desperately tried to hold on. And when her walls squeezed around him one more time, he lost control and let go.

He held onto her, burying his face against the back of her neck, and she trembled in his arms. He pulled out of her, and she rolled over to face him, lips swollen from his kisses, hand shaking as she touched his face.

"You ok?" he murmured. She smiled and kissed him.

"Are you?" she whispered.

"Christ, I didn't know it could be that good."

"When you're with the right person, yeah, it can be good. I haven't had good in so long, I almost forgot what it felt like." She kissed him again, and Daryl gently ran his hands down her back. "Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"You said you didn't have much experience," she chuckled. "I think you underestimated your abilities." Daryl blushed. "When was the last time?"

"Hell, I don't remember."

"That good?" They both laughed.

"I ain't never done this before," he said quietly. "I mean, not with somebody I care about." Carol bit her lower lip at his words, and he cleared his throat. "Ain't never had a girlfriend. Ain't never spent the night with someone just…bein' close. Tell ya the truth, none of it ever really mattered to me. Not 'til now, anyway. But this was…"

"Incredible," Carol whispered.

"Yeah." They laughed together, and Carol buried her face against his neck.

"Does this mean we're gonna do it again?" she teased, kissing his neck. He kissed her again, and she groaned against his mouth. He chuckled and gently pushed back on her shoulders, rolling onto his back and discreetly rolling the used rubber off of his dick and disposing of it in the little wastebasket by the bed. Carol looked up at the ceiling for a moment, smiling when he rolled back over to face her, cradling her cheek in his hand and pulling her in for another kiss.

Dog started whimpering sometime in the middle of the night. But it wasn't until he started barking that Carol and Daryl woke.

"He'll wake the baby," Carol whispered.

"I got him," Daryl grunted, pulling himself out of bed and quickly scrambling to pull his clothes back on. Carol threw her legs over the edge of the bed and got out, putting her own clothes back on and following Daryl out into the hall. "Dog!"

A loud crash from the front porch stopped them in their tracks. They stepped down the stairs slowly, and Daryl reached for his crossbow that was propped up against the closet door. They each pulled their shoes on and their coats, and Carol reached for the loaded shotgun in the top of the closet.

"Stay behind me," Daryl warned, as Dog continued barking from the living room. "Dog! Hush up!" The dog whimpered but settled down to a low growl, and Daryl unlocked the door before pushing the screen door open.

Almost as soon as he stepped out on the porch, something scrambled off the porch, growling low and running off past the barn.

"Fuck," Daryl muttered.

"What is it?"

"Just a damn coyote," he muttered. "It's gone."

"Jesus," Carol huffed. "Well, at least we have a good guard Dog."

"Loud mouth, more like it," Daryl muttered. Together, they stepped back inside the house and put their weapons away. They stripped off their coats and boots, and then Dog came over, nuzzling his cold, wet nose against the palm of Daryl's hand. "Hell, I ain't mad at ya, boy. Ya just gotta pick your moments. People and walkers. That's what we're worried about. Alright?" Dog whimpered again and licked Daryl's hand. "Alright. Good Dog." Dog moved back to sleep in front of the fireplace, and Carol yawned and covered her mouth.

"I wonder what time it is?"

"Dunno. Still late. Probably got a few hours 'til sunup. Best try to get some more sleep." He placed his hand on the small of her back as they headed up the stairs, and Carol couldn't help but smile. But, when they were halfway up, Lydia began to cry, and Carol sighed and leaned her head on Daryl's shoulder.

"You get the baby. I'll get the bottle," she yawned. Daryl nodded tiredly and continued on up the stairs, while Carol headed back down to the kitchen to make up a fresh bottle for baby Lydia.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is greatly appreciate! _


	9. Footprints

Chapter 9: Footprints

Carol stood with her feet spread apart, her weight evenly balanced. She raised her gun, adjusting her hold for the extra weight the silencer put on the barrel, and she took a slowly breath. She squeezed one eye shut and aimed for the old tin can sitting in the window of the barn loft. She was a good hundred yards from her mark, but she hadn't missed one in the last eight shots. This was her challenge shot.

She took another deep breath, exhaled and squeezed the trigger. The tin can fell back out of sight, and a smile spread across Carol's face.

"Nice shot," Daryl praised from where he stood on the porch.

"Thanks," Carol beamed, lowering her gun and turning to face him. He stepped down into the freshly fallen snow, and she handed him the gun. "Think you're ready for crossbow trainin' next."

"Easy," she shrugged.

"Easy? Shit, it took me two damn years to get a good feel for it." He tucked the gun into the back of his jeans.

"Slow learner, huh?" she teased, as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Funny," he muttered, as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. When she pulled back, he chased her mouth with his own. She smiled against his lips, and when he finally let her pull away, she looked into his eyes. "I'm gonna head out, look for more supplies." The smile faded from Carol's face.

"What? Now?"

"We got more bad weather comin'. I wanna get out, get what I can and get home."

"Daryl, we'll be alright. We have plenty."

"I know, but this break in weather might be the only chance I get for a while. Gonna be a quick trip. I'll be home by dark. Promise."

"Don't. Please don't promise." She looked away, and Daryl sighed.

"Hey. M'comin' home. Tonight." She nodded then and hugged her arms to herself.

"Okay."

"Hey." She looked up at him. "Am I sharin' your room again tonight?"

"You better," she blushed.

"A'right. Keep the bed warm for me." He started to step back, but Carol tucked her hands into his coat pockets and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

"Hey. No rush on fixing the fireplace in your room. Unless you'd rather have the space." Daryl looked at her for a moment, letting the implications of her words sink in. He noticed the blush in her cheeks matching the redness of her cold nose.

"More fun to sleep with you," he admitted in agreement. Carol smiled then, and Daryl's heart skipped a beat.

"Stay safe?"

"Nine lives," he promised. And as if on cue, Lydia began to cry inside the house. Carol sighed then, and she gave Daryl one more quick kiss before he headed off toward the truck. Dog, who'd been sniffing around in the snow, started to follow. "No. Stay."

"Come on, Dog," Carol called. The dog whined but turned and headed into the house after Carol. She turned to wave Daryl off, and then she closed the door behind her.

Once inside, she tended to Lydia, changing her diaper and getting her a fresh bottle. Lydia stayed awake for a bit, so Carol snuggled with her on the couch, holding her in her lap and playing with her little hands and feed. Lydia was content, and Carol's mind kept wandering back to last night. Gooseflesh raised up on her arms just thinking about it. They'd both been nervous, perhaps him more than her, but he'd been determined to make her feel good.

It had been so sudden, this change in their relationship, but it was a welcome one. Daryl had been the one person who'd been there for her since everything changed. At the quarry, she'd felt invisible to everyone but Sophia, who clung to her side most times. She shared a friendly rapport with Lori, and they bonded over their kids, but Lori had been rightfully preoccupied with keeping Carl safe and then in being with her family after Rick's return. Daryl had been the first one to really reach out to her after Sophia's disappearance. Everyone had come to her with encouragement despite the hopelessness in their eyes. She knew they'd been thinking the worst, and they'd been right. But Daryl? No, Daryl had made it his mission to find Sophia, and in the process, to keep hope alive in her heart. Even though they'd both been hurt in the end, she would never forget him trying to keep her spirits up.

When Lydia finally went back to sleep, Carol put her back in her crib to sleep. She spent the rest of the morning tidying up the house, taking the trash out to the metal barrel behind the barn Daryl burned everything in.

She took a hot bath and puttered about the house trying to keep herself from worrying about him. She spent most of the day actively trying to read and not miss him, but she found that the harder she tried to concentrate, the more she thought about him and how all she wanted was to be with him again.

She still could hardly believe it. All she'd known for the last thirteen years was Ed. And for far more than half of those years, sex with him had been nothing more than mechanical. If he wasn't beating her or tormenting her, he was using her for his own sexual gratification. She had always thought that if another man had ever wanted her, her body simply wouldn't know how to respond. She'd hated sex with Ed, and the part she hated the most was that sometimes, sometimes he would make her come, and he'd convince himself she really wanted it. She always just felt dirty.

But Daryl had been so nervous, so worried about pleasing her, and the way he'd touched her and held her had been tender and passionate at the same time. She still got gooseflesh thinking about the way skin felt against hers.

She was happy. In all the hell she'd been through before the turn and after, for the first time in years, she felt hope in her heart. Maybe it had something to do with the beautiful baby girl that the world hadn't damaged yet. Maybe it had something to do with Daryl, with getting to know him and letting him know her. Whatever it was, she felt a twinge of guilt that she was making the best of whatever time she had left, when just a few miles away, her little girl was lying in a grave and she'd never see her again.

She wanted to hate the woman she was that day on the side of the road. She hated that she hadn't tried to go after her, that she hadn't died instead. But that woman was almost a stranger now. When Carol thought back to that time, to that moment, it was almost as if she could reach out and touch that stranger, grip her shoulders and tell her to try. But instead of hating who she was, she mourned for her. She mourned for what she'd lost, mourned for her not knowing the strength, not finding it until she'd lost absolutely everything.

Carol was lost in these thoughts when Dog began to scratch at the front door, begging to be let out. With a lump in her throat, she trudged over to the door and let him out, peering out over the bright, white snow that glittered in the sunlight. As she watched him leap into a snow bank, she laughed and felt the tension melt from her muscles just watching him bask in the joy of playing in the cold, fluffy snow.

For a little while, she stood on the porch and threw sticks, praising him when he returned them. It was a nice distraction from the worry she felt for Daryl, but when Dog finally tired and came back in, the cloud settled back in over Carol's heart, and she retreated into the comfort of their home to wait for Daryl's return.

...

He found a small department store somewhere North of the farm. The first place he'd gone to was the infant section. He hit the jackpot on formula, grabbing all fifteen cans and even finding ten more in a box in the storage room. He also found jars of baby food that hadn't surpassed the expiration date, and while he figured Lydia might be a little too young for them now, they might be a nice treat when she got a little bigger. He grabbed random things, hoping some of the items would be useful or convenient for taking care of an infant during the apocalypse. He found a little bouncy seat that had an ocean theme pattern on it, and he thought maybe she might like to sit in that. Plus, it was practical. They could put her in it while they worked around the house and let her sit up a little instead of lay in her crib all day.

He hit up the hardware section next, grabbing tools he'd need for repairs around the house. He made his way around the store, tossing whatever might be useful into the cart. When he hit up the hygiene section, he made sure to find plenty of that soap he noticed Carol always looked for or asked him to bring back for her. He found razors and toothpaste and new toothbrushes. He also made sure to grab a few boxes of tampons for Carol. He could practically hear Merle giving him shit from beyond the grave about it as he tossed them into the cart.

There was no pharmacy, but there were plenty of bottles of ibuprofen and even cold meds left. Daryl grabbed what he could, and then he picked up the last four packages of condoms off the shelf. He held one box for a moment, snorting to himself at how ridiculous it seemed that he was looting rubbers of all things. Honestly, for a moment, he had to convince himself he hadn't dreamt the whole thing the night before. The way she tasted, the way she felt in his arms, the way she felt wrapped around him, so tight and warm. He still remembered the way her breath hit his ear, how his name fell from her lips, how their bodies moved together so perfectly.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants. And he was blushing. He was alone and blushing like a fool. Now, all he wanted to do was get back to her. He knew he was going to be getting back past dark, and he hoped she'd wait up for him.

He quickly gathered a few other items before heading out to toss everything in plastic totes in the back up the pickup. He pulled a tarp over it for good measure before getting in and heading for home.

By the time he pulled up in front of the gate, it was dark, and the only sound for miles was that of the chilly breeze whistling and blowing the snow off the tree branches.

He rubbed his hands together before unlocking and pushing open the gate wide enough to get the truck through. As he was turning back to go to the truck, he noticed something that hadn't been there when he'd left earlier. Leading out of the woods across from the gate was a fresh set of tracks. They led up to the gate, and then disappeared on the other side as if someone had climbed over and continued onto the property.

Daryl's heart sank, and for a moment, he froze, peering up the dark path toward the house. All was quiet, all was dark, and for a moment, his blood ran cold.

He got back in the truck, driving it through the gate before getting back out to shut and lock it. When he got back into the truck and started up the drive to the house, he noticed the single set of footprints continued on up toward the house.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. The shape and size of the footprints were too big to be Carol's, and they definitely weren't his. And whoever they belonged to was walking quickly, as if on a mission.

His hands gripped the steering wheel, and when he backed the truck up into the barn, he got out and, and with his flashlight, he followed the tracks around the house. They circled twice. And then he saw wet boot prints on the porch.

His breath caught in his chest, and he rushed to the door. It was locked, and when he fumbled for the key, he felt like his heart was in this throat.

"Carol!" His voice tore from his throat before he even had the door open. Dog barked the second the door scuffed across the threshold, and when Daryl pushed inside, he heard the thud of footsteps on the stairs. "Carol!" He shut and locked the door, and he peered into the darkness until a light bounced along the wall of the stairs. Carol came down with an oil lamp in her hand, and she peered at Daryl in the darkness.

"Daryl? What's wrong?" Her hand flew to her chest. "Are you hurt? Did you…oh _God_. Are you bit?"

"M'fine," he panted, moving across the room to pull her into a hug the second her feet were on the ground.

"What happened?" she asked softly, hugging him with one arm as the lamp shook in her other hand.

"You been outside?"

"No. Not since after you left. Why?"

"Fresh tracks leading from the woods. Past the fence."

"A walker?" she asked.

"Nah. Somebody hopped the fence. Circled the house at least a couple times. Somebody was on the porch."

"The house is locked up. Nobody could get in," Carol insisted.

"Yeah, but somebody knows we're here."

"You don't know that. You were gone, and I've been upstairs with Lydia for the last couple hours. Dog hasn't made a sound."

"You go upstairs with the baby. M'gonna check the outside of the house, make sure everything's secure. Gonna bring in our supplies. Lock me out, alright?"

"Daryl, I'll come with you."

"No. Stay in here. Stay with Dog. If somebody's outside, I wanna make sure you're safe, make sure you keep Lydia safe, alright?" She nodded then, and Daryl headed back out the door. Dog started after him, and he held his hand out, stopping him from squeezing out the crack in the door. "Stay." Dog whined, and Carol held her breath as Daryl headed back outside.

She did as he asked, urging Dog to follow her upstairs, and once she was in the room, she locked the door and waited.

After what felt like an hour, she heard the door unlock downstairs, and she heard his heavy boots on the wood floor downstairs. She checked on Lydia and headed back down the stairs to see what he was up to.

Daryl was bringing in the last plastic tote full of supplies when she stepped back off the stairs.

"Everything ok?"

"Looks like they kept going, off into the woods behind the house. Gonna go out in the mornin', see if I see anything."

"Daryl, they're probably passing through the area."

"And pass up a place like this? In weather like this? They could be watchin' the place, waitin' to make a move on it." He shut the door and locked it behind him. Carol pulled her arms around him and hugged him tight.

"Stay home tomorrow. Please. If anything happens, we'll deal with it together. Just don't go. I don't want you out there trekking through the woods if there's somebody really out there watching us. We'll wait." Daryl finally nodded in agreement.

"Alright." He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and reached into the closet for the shotgun. "But I ain't takin' no chances." Carol nodded in agreement when he handed her the gun, and together, they headed upstairs for what was sure to be a very restless night.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!_


	10. Distractions

Chapter 10: Distractions

Daryl had let Dog outside to use the bathroom, and once they were both back in, he'd gone up and taken a quick shower. When he walked into the bedroom, Carol was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling with her arms folded behind her head. She'd been hoping for a repeat of the night before, but instead, everything was tense. Of course, she understood, but she'd been hoping for at least a little peace and some time to enjoy this new step in their relationship.

Daryl locked the bedroom door and leaned over the crib to check on Lydia who was fast asleep. He felt her little hand that was tucked up by her face to make sure she wasn't cold, and then he stepped over to the window, peering out from behind the curtain before pulling it tight.

"Come to bed," Carol urged, rolling to her side and propping her head up in her hand.

"I am. Just makin' sure everything's ok."

"Everything's fine. We're safe for now. Dog will let us know if anyone comes around."

"Ya said he didn't make a sound tonight."

"Well, then maybe that means he didn't sense anything bad." Daryl huffed at that, and Carol patted the mattress. "Come to bed." Daryl moved across the room and peered out the other window, and Carol watched his fingers twitch where his hands rested against the wall. A thought crossed her mind. "Daryl?" He pulled the curtains closed and turned to look at her. "What if it's one of our people? Rick or T-Dog?"

"Nah. If it was one of our group? They'd have known this place was a good place to stay, just like we did."

"Maybe," Carol said quietly.

"Could've been one of Randall's group."

"Randall?"

"Yeah. The things he told me when I was…" He shook his head, balling up his fists for a moment. "They ain't good people." He made his way over to the bed and sat down on the edge. "Ain't takin' any chances." Carol sighed softly, and she crawled up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest. She rested her chin on his shoulder and hugged him tight.

"You can't think about that," she whispered. "It was probably just someone traveling. Maybe they saw this place was taken, or they saw the door was locked and didn't want to make all that noise breaking in. Maybe they just moved on."

"Yeah, maybe," Daryl grumbled. "Still don't like it."

"I'll tell you what," Carol whispered, "we'll take a walk around the property tomorrow. If it looks like anyone circled back we'll…"

"We'll what? We got a baby," he said quietly. "We can't run."

"Then we'll fight," Carol murmured. "But we might not have to." She let go of him and rested her hands on his shoulders. He turned his head so he could see her face, and she smiled. "This is our home, right? If we have to fight, we will. Hmm?" He nodded then, and his gaze wandered to her lips. "Now, we can spend the night worrying about what might not even happen, or we can distract each other and sleep like babies." Daryl wasn't laughing. He was still staring at her lips, and when he leaned in to kiss her, she smiled.

...

When Carol woke in the morning, she was achy and warm, and the moment she felt his breath on the back of her neck, she smiled. Biting her lip, she turned in the bed, sliding her hand up his chest and over his shoulder. He groaned softly in his sleep, and Carol leaned in to softly kiss his lips.

"Morning," she whispered, as his hands began to wander, moving over her bare hip and up her side.

"Mornin'," he murmured.

"Sleep ok?"

"Like the dead," he grunted. "You wore me out." Carol grinned, and she kissed him again.

"Good. Then my plan was a success." She laughed when he leaned in for one more kiss. She started to move to get out of bed, but he pulled her close, peppering kisses along her neck and throat. She bit her lip and arched her neck back.

"Thought you wanted to stay in today."

"Thought you wanted to check the property."

"House is still standin'. You're still naked." Carol laughed at that. He was insatiable, and very thought that he wanted her so much was one of the most erotic feelings she'd ever experienced.

His hand slipped between her legs, and she gasped. He captured her cries with his lips, kissing her long and slow.

"Daryl," she gasped. "The baby. She'll be up soon." Daryl murmured something against her neck as rolled her onto her back. He crawled over her then, nipping at the hollow of her throat. When he looked up at her, a lazy smile spread across her face.

"We better do this fast then." His voice was low and thick, and Carol felt her core start to throb when his eyes leveled on hers. She reached for the box of condoms on the table, but he shook his head. "Nope. This one's for you." Carol's eyes widened when Daryl slid down the bed, settling between her legs. Her mind went blank. She hadn't had a man do this for her in so long, and the second Daryl's tongue slid against her folds, her hips rocked up off the blanket and all coherent thoughts were lost.

"Fuck," she bit out. "Daryl…." He pushed his hands down against her hips, holding her against the mattress, and she arched her back when his tongue teased her clit. Her thighs trembled, and it was all she could do to keep herself from grabbing his hair and holding him in place and thrusting herself against his face. But she reached for a pillow, bringing it over her mouth and biting into it to quiet herself. Daryl chuckled against her, and the vibrations pushed her closer to the edge.

He stroked her slowly with his fingers and his tongue, and each time he dipped a finger inside of her, she clenched around him and came a little closer to the edge.

It didn't take long. She was sensitive from the night before, and when she sucked in a sharp breath, his head snapped up so he could see her face and gauge her reaction.

"Don't stop," she panted. "Just…gentle." She bit her lip and arched her back again when his nose brushed against her curls, and he settled in to tease her some more.

For a man who hadn't been with a woman in a long time, he sure was learning fast, and she appreciated that he'd stopped long enough to check in on her and make sure she was comfortable. She hadn't had a lover who cared so much about her own needs in so long, the idea of it would have brought tears to her eyes if she hadn't been so close to a powerful orgasm.

She came fast and hard, rocking her hips up against his face, and then she was reaching for him. He crawled over her then, kissing his way up her throat. Then she could taste herself on his lips, and everything was blurry and warm. Her body was thrumming as he fumbled with a condom wrapper. In moments, he slid into her, and her muscles tightened with each stroke.

"Fuck," she bit out, as he pulled her legs up around his hips, pushing deeper. She cried out, and he quieted her with a kiss, wordlessly reminding her about the sleeping baby across the room. She buried her face against his neck, sucking the skin there, nipping him there as he rocked into her, faster, deeper each time. She panted, crying out against his skin, nails digging into his back as her thighs tightened around his hips.

A growl ripped from his throat when he came, thrusting into her a few more times until she went rigid underneath him. He collapsed atop her, and her fingers relaxed, gently tracing the scars between his shoulder blades as he rested his head against her breast.

"Jesus," she whispered. "You're something else." Daryl snorted then, pulling out of her and rolling onto his back. He looked over at her, and they both laughed. "You better be careful. You're gonna create a monster."

"I don't mind," he grinned. Carol smiled then, rolling away from him and sitting up on the edge of the bed.

"Where you goin'?"

"Shower," she whispered. "I thought after, we could unpack everything you brought home last night. And then maybe after, we could go out and take a look around. Just to see."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We can't sit around wondering if somebody's out there. We won't go far. We'll stay close in case Lydia needs us."

"A'right," Daryl agreed. Carol started off toward the bathroom, and Daryl couldn't help but watch the way her hips shifted just a little as she walked. She was beautiful, and he loved that she had a smattering of freckles across her lower back. He couldn't wait to learn all of these new, intimate things about her that he never thought he'd have the pleasure of knowing.

She stopped in the doorway and turned to Daryl.

"You wanna wash my back?" she asked with a flirty little wink. Oh yeah. He was in Heaven.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!_


	11. Heart to Heart

Chapter 11: Heart to Heart

"Oh, this is perfect!" Carol exclaimed, unpacking one of the plastic totes he'd brought in the night before.

"What's that?"

"This!" She held up the box. It was a two piece baby monitor. "Please tell me you found batteries."

"Yeah. Uh….one of these totes." He went through a few before coming up with a large package of batteries. "Here." Carol quickly opened the box and got the monitors set up. While Daryl unpacked some of the other totes, Carol placed the monitor on the mantle and turned it on. She closed the door and headed downstairs and was surprised she could hear Lydia breathing and cooing in her sleep.

"How is it?" Daryl asked, as Carol met him back in the living room.

"Great. This makes me feel a lot better. Gives us a little more freedom during the day." She started sorting through all of the baby stuff he'd picked up, and she smiled. Daryl blushed.

"Didn't know what we might need."

"This stuff is great. Oh!" She picked up a little soft, plush elephant. "Sophia had one of these." She held it close, and Daryl rubbed the back of his neck.

"M'sorry."

"Don't be. She loved it. I'd almost forgotten about it until now." She smiled and reached over to touch his arm. "Come on. Let's get this stuff put away."

They worked together, storing the supplies in the pantry and upstairs in the bedroom. By the time they were finished, Lydia was wide awake and fussing for a bottle. Daryl took care of her, while Carol let Dog outside.

When Daryl finally met Carol out on the front porch with the baby monitor tucked in his coat pocket and his crossbow slung over his shoulder, she linked her arm with his and shivered.

"Need to find you a warmer coat," he murmured. She turned to him, and he grinned at the sight of her cold, pink nose, and he leaned in to kiss her.

"Feeling warmer now," she whispered against his mouth. "Lydia sleeping again?"

"Yeah. She'll probably be out a couple hours." He turned around and locked the front door. Dog yipped and jumped into a snow bank.

"Should we let him inside?" Carol asked.

"Nah. You kiddin'? He'd stay outside all day if we'd let him." Carol laughed in agreement, and Dog started rolling around in the snow. Daryl pointed off toward the side of the house. "Tracks head out this way and toward the woods." Carol nodded then, and they started walking in that direction. As they walked, Carol slipped her gloved hand against his, and he gave it a squeeze. They walked in silence, both keeping their eyes fixed on the trail, and after a few minutes, Carol looked up at him.

"You've never had a girlfriend?"

"What?"

"That's what you said," she murmured, giving his had a squeeze.

"Yeah, that's what I said," he admitted with a nod.

"Can I ask why?" She watched the flush fill Daryl's face, and he ducked his head a little. "You don't have to tell me."

"Just never met anybody I wanted to spend that much time with, I guess." He chewed his lower lip. "Even sex…it never felt like somethin' I needed. The times it happened, it was never about love. Never about feelin' somethin' or seein' a future with somebody. Didn't happen often. Merle always gave me shit about it. Said there was somethin' wrong with me. Always tried to make me feel like a freak or somethin'."

"You're not a freak," Carol insisted. "And for the record, what you lack in experience, you make up for in…enthusiasm." Daryl snorted, and Carol laughed. "And I've never had anything better." Daryl stopped then, and turning toward Carol, and she gave him a sad little smile.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling. A worry, I guess."

"What's that?"

"I don't know. I guess, since the farm, since we got split up from the group, I can't help but wonder if we hadn't, would we still be…"

"Oh," he said with a nod.

"Well? I can't help but wonder. If we were still with them, you'd be helping Rick, and I'd probably be helping Lori, and we wouldn't have spent as much time together." She shrugged a little. "I can't help but wonder if it's just because it was just the two of us, and…"

"Hey." He cut her off with a kiss. She sighed against his mouth and looked up into his eyes when he pulled back. "This ain't a last woman on earth thing, if that's what you're worried about. I've wanted you since long before we were on our own. Didn't know what the hell to do about it, didn't think you'd ever want some asshole like me."

"Believe me, I know an asshole when I see one. You're no asshole." She gave him a little smile. "I saw the man you really are back at the farm, even before, when you wanted to look for Sophia. I think maybe I scared you a little. I think that's why you tried to push me away…after Sophia."

"I thought I let you down."

"You didn't," Carol insisted. She smiled at him. "So do you see a future with us?"

"What?"

"You said that before, sex wasn't about seeing a future with someone." She blushed. "I know it's silly to think about the future now, but it's hard not to when we look after Lydia every day."

"I see a future," he said quietly. "Me and you and Lydia. We're a family. And I think maybe we was meant to find her. If we hadn't gotten separated from the rest of the group, we never would've found her. But I can tell ya somethin'."

"What's that?"

"We woulda had this. Maybe not right away, but it woulda happened."

"You seem awfully sure of yourself," Carol grinned.

"I know what I know. Also know what I said before. Said sex before wasn't about love. I can't say that now." Carol took a deep breath at the meaning behind those words. Daryl leaned in then, kissing her softly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her close, lifting her up just a little, and she giggled until her feet were back on the ground.

"Love you," he said quietly, pressing his forehead against hers.

"I love you, too," she whispered. She bit her bottom lip, feeling warm from head to toe. "Come on, let's go back."

"Already?" he asked.

"Yeah." She looked at the tracks they'd been following. "Whoever it is, they haven't come back. They haven't backtracked. They're gone. And if they're not? Well, they're obviously not ready to come out of the woods just yet." She took his hand again. "Come on. Let's go home."

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading, guys! Feedback is always appreciated!_


	12. Safe

Chapter 12: Safe

Daryl shivered as he trudged through the snow with his cross bow slung over his back. He'd woken early and slipped out before Carol even stirred beside him in the bed. He'd checked on Lydia and let Dog out before leaving a note promising Carol he'd be home by lunch.

He hated slipping out that way, but he knew if he hadn't, she'd have convinced him not to go. As much as he didn't want to be away from her or from Lydia, he wanted to be sure his family was safe. He needed to follow those tracks and make sure whoever made them wasn't lurking out in the woods and waiting on a chance to strike.

It felt like a lifetime ago that they'd all been together at the farm. And in the time since he'd last seen Rick or T-Dog or Andrea, something had changed in him. He'd felt the change starting before the farm, out there on the highway when Sophia went missing. He'd put his heart into looking for her, into trying to keep hope alive in a world where hope was merely a glimmer, a shadow dancing along the walls at night, disappearing when the cold light of day chased it away.

In that time, he'd found himself apart from his brother, he'd found Carol finding her own self without her daughter. He'd found Lydia. They were his family. Everything else felt like someone else's life.

As his boots crunched through snow and dead leaves and old tree branches, his mind raced. Where were these tracks leading? Where were they going? What if it was Lydia's mother seeking the baby she'd abandoned? What if it was Rick? What if it was someone who wanted to take what he had? What _they_ had built together.

Something rustled in the bushes behind him, and he turned, quickly drawing his crossbow and waiting with his finger on the trigger. A low growl, followed by another rustle of leaves snapped Daryl's attention dead center on a cluster of bushes. In moments, Dog poked his head out, panting and rooting at a frozen clod of dirt on the ground. Daryl sighed and put his weapon away.

"Told you to stay home. What kinda guard dog are you, anyway, huh?" Dog barked, and Daryl glared at him. "Ain't a huntin' dog neither. Can't keep quiet." Dog whined and cocked his head to the side before sniffing the ground again. "C'mon. Might as well come along." Dog followed him through another cluster of trees, and in a few minutes, Daryl noticed another set of tracks coming out from the side. It wasn't long before he came across blood spatter and then a walker frozen in the snow with a gaping hole in the side of its head.

Then the tracks he'd been following all along started to stagger. A bloody, slushy mess awaited Daryl about a half-mile away where he found the freshly turned walker sitting against the base of a tree, barely moving, clothes stiff and frozen to the ground.

The thing saw Daryl and started to get up, finding itself stuck and lacking in the proper motor skills to free itself and come after him.

The face was that of a man, unlike any he'd seen before. The eyes were wide and dark, the jaw was strong. He was a stranger. His pack was still on his back, and after Daryl drove a bolt through its head, he grabbed the bag and started going through it. He found a few items he recognized as property of the farm he and Carol were staying it. They were sharp little farming tools that had been laid out in the barn. It was enough to tell Daryl that this was the person who'd been slinking about the property. It wasn't one of their people. It wasn't someone that wanted to hurt them. It was someone just passing on, scavenging for tools and moving on without bothering anyone else that was simply trying to survive.

"Sorry," Daryl muttered. "Thanks for not hurtin' my family." He cleared his throat and slung the man's pack over his own shoulder, as Dog sniffed around the corpse. "C'mon, Dog. Let's go home."

...

She fell into him the second he was safely back in the house. Her arms wrapped around him, and her kiss warmed him from the cold.

"I don't like waking up alone," she whispered between kisses. He pulled her closer and moaned against her mouth. She pulled back, and she looked into his eyes. "Daryl."

"M'sorry," he murmured quietly. "Didn't wanna wake you. You were sleepin' so good."

"You snuck out because you knew how I'd feel about you going out there." She kissed him again. "Are we safe?"

"We're safe," he promised.

"You know?"

"I know. Followed the tracks. Wasn't nobody we knew. Some stranger. Got bit by a walker, made it almost a half-mile bleedin' out. He's gone now. But it was him."

"How do you know?"

"He had some things in his pack from our barn. Don't think he wanted to hurt nobody. Just needed somethin' he could use." Carol sighed and put her hand over her mouth.

"The thought of anybody coming that close again, Daryl…I don't…" She shook her head. "I know we need people. I know. We can't be afraid of everyone that passes by the farm. It's just that with Lydia, I don't want to take any chances. She's…" She took a heavy breath. "I love her, Daryl."

"I know," he murmured, taking her hand in his.

"She's ours, isn't she?"

"She's ours," he murmured, squeezing her hands. "Ain't gonna let nothin' happen to her or you." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Promise."


	13. The Knot

Chapter 13: The Knot

"Da-da-da-da-da!" Lydia babbled happily from her high chair. Her chubby arms stretched out as Daryl stepped into the kitchen with Dog right on his heels.

"How's my favorite girl?" Daryl asked, leaning down to kiss the top of Lydia's head. Her thick crop of dark brown hair was still messy from sleep, but she grinned a gummy smile up at him. He hoisted her up into his arms, and she rested her head on his chest. Carol turned from where she stood at the stove, and she crinkled her nose at him.

"Favorite girl, huh?" she asked.

"Look, Lydia. Mama's jealous your first word was Dada."

"To be fair, I'm pretty sure she was trying to say Dog," Carol teased. Daryl crossed the room and greeted her with a kiss. "Morning."

"Mornin'," he murmured. "Sleep ok?"

"Like a rock when you finally kept your hands to yourself," Carol teased.

"Can't help it," he chuckled, burying his face against her neck and running his free hand up her back. She laughed then and gently pushed him away.

"Give me my kid and go set the table."

"Like it when you boss me around," Daryl murmured. Carol grinned, and she took Lydia into her arms.

"You gonna say it today, Missy? Say mama. Ma-ma." Lydia giggled, and Carol kissed her rosy cheeks. "No? Not gonna do it, huh? That's ok." She carried her back over to the high chair and plopped her back down. Daryl glanced over at Carol when she turned back toward the stove. After he placed the last bowl on the table, he reached into his pocket, clearing his throat and stepping back across the room to her.

She sensed him behind her, expecting him to pull his arms around her and nuzzle his face against the back of her neck. Instead, she felt his hand slip against hers. She turned around just as he slipped something into her palm and curled her fingers over.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Found it on my supply run yesterday. Thought of you." Carol looked down and opened her hand to find a lovely little gold band with four small but beautiful sapphires inlayed. Her mouth fell open, and she looked up to meet his gaze.

"Daryl?"

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous," she whispered. "Daryl, I…I love it."

"Would you wear it?"

"I…yes," she stammered. "But…why would…"

"Ain't never felt about anybody the way I feel about you. Never looked at someone and saw twenty years of memories waitin' to be made. 'Specially not after everything changed. But then I looked at you. I'm lookin' at you now, and all I wanna do is make memories with you." Carol took a shaky breath and blinked back tears.

"Are you…are you asking me to marry you?" she asked with a surprised laugh.

"Who we got to throw a wedding for? I'm askin' ya to be my wife. Right now." Carol stared at him, stunned for a moment, and Daryl quickly reached around her to turn the stove off and take the pan of oatmeal off to keep it from burning. Carol blinked herself out of her thoughts, and she looked back at Daryl's face to see the nervous little smile pulling at his lips. "I say somethin' wrong?"

"No," she murmured, "you said…everything right. I just never thought much about being someone's wife again." She placed her hand over her mouth for a moment, eyeing the beautiful little ring in her other hand.

"Shit. I didn't think. M'sorry, I just…"

"Stop," Carol insisted. "This is the sweetest thing anyone's ever…" She shook her head. "I love you so much." She pulled her arms around his neck then, kissing him softly, holding him close and clutching that ring in her hand. When she pulled back, she bit her lip and opened her hand again. "Put it on me?" Daryl's eyes widened just a little at her words, but he chewed his bottom lip and nodded his head, taking the little ring between his calloused fingers.

"Hope it fits," he muttered. She laughed softly when he slid it past her knuckles. She hummed softly and stretched her fingers out to admire the band.

"Perfect," she murmured. "Thank you." She kissed him again, and Lydia squealed from her high chair. "Of course we won't forget our little flower girl." She kissed Daryl again and wiped the tears from her eyes before she turned to grab the pot of oatmeal from the stove.

Daryl cleared his throat then, returning to the table and feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He'd been worrying himself over how to present her with the ring all night. He knew her marriage to Ed had been a horrible regret for her, though he knew Sophia would always be the best thing to come from that.

He watched her come across the kitchen and dip out some oatmeal for the two of them and a little bowl just for Lydia. She set it aside to cool and settled in at the table across from him. He watched her as she reached over to tickle Lydia, and the little girl squealed loudly.

He never thought he'd be someone's dad or someone's husband, but here he was, feeling like whatever happened next, he was the luckiest son of a bitch that ever walked the earth for having someone like Carol look at him the way she did and love him just as fiercely as he loved her. And Lydia. The little girl had wrapped him around her little finger, and he was done for. He was a dad, and now he knew what Rick Grimes had felt trying to keep his family safe. Looking at her, he knew he'd shoot a man in the heart if it meant keeping her from harm.

They ate breakfast together, and once Lydia's oatmeal was cooled off, Carol fed her while Daryl cleaned up the rest of the dishes and let Dog outside. By the time Lydia was thoroughly messy, Daryl took her upstairs to clean her up, and Carol stepped out onto the porch to watch Dog chase after a butterfly.

She looked down at the ring on her finger and placed her hand over her heart. To say she was surprised would have been an understatement. In the past few months, she'd learned many things about Daryl Dixon. She knew that despite his gruff exterior and the history of abuse he'd suffered as a child, he wanted to please her and to make her happy. And he could be romantic when he really tried. He surprised her often, and while she didn't fall in love with Daryl Dixon the romantic, she enjoyed that side of him from time to time. And him presenting her with this ring was probably the most romantic moment of her entire life.

She was so lost in thought, she almost didn't hear him step out onto the porch with Lydia in his arms. The little girl was dressed in her warm pajamas despite the nice weather. There was still a chill on the breeze, and he didn't want to take any chances.

"So, I guess this makes me a Dixon now." Carol cocked an eyebrow and looked up at Daryl from where she sat on the porch. Daryl snorted.

"Trust me. It's better it's in name only."

"Yeah, because if it was by blood, we did some really dirty things last night that wouldn't be appropriate."

"Stop," Daryl snorted. "Ya don't gotta take my name."

"I don't want _his_ name."

"It's your little girl's name."

"His name," she said quietly, shaking her head. "It's just a name." Daryl sat down beside her on the porch step and bounced Lydia on his knee.

"Want to take a walk with us?"

"Oh, you two have plans, do you?"

"Lydia says she's tired of bein' cooped up in the house. She wants to take a walk around the property and make sure the fences are still secure."

"Oh, she said all that, did she?"

"She did," Daryl said with a nod.

"But she can't even say mama."

"We're workin' on that. Promise," Daryl grinned. Carol smiled then and kissed him before standing up and starting off toward the edge of the property. Dog stopped chasing his butterfly friend and barked excitedly, wagging his tail. Daryl stood and followed after her, turning Lydia in his arms and holding her back against his chest so she could look out and see the world. She kicked her legs excitedly, and Daryl bounced her in his arms.

"We could build another house over here," Carol murmured. "And a school over there." She waved her arms around, imagining what they could have one day. "Maybe even a tower. Here. Where we can look over the property and see who's coming from miles away." Daryl eyed her.

"You still see more people here?" he asked.

"There are people out there, Daryl." Carol reached out and stroked Lydia's hair. "She has a future. We're going to give her one."

_Author's Note: As always, feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading!_


	14. Ghost

Chapter 14: Ghost

Daryl's eyes flew open when Carol jerked beside him in the bed. He immediately sat up, turning to look at her, watching her fingers grip the pillow as her face legs shifted restlessly under the covers. She moaned softly, shaking her head, and Daryl leaned over, wrapping his arm around her middle. He buried his face against the back of her neck and placed his hand against her chest. Her heart was racing, and as he let out a slow breath against her neck, he felt her shudder and jerk again in his arms.

"No," she whispered.

"S'alright," he murmured. "Just a bad dream. Come back to me." He gently caressed her chest until he felt her heart slow under his fingertips. He kissed the back of her head then when she sighed in his arms.

"Stay close, Sophia," she whimpered. He closed his eyes and felt his heart sink. It had been nearly two weeks since she'd had a bad dream. They were coming less and less frequently, but she was still having them. Once the weather had turned warm, she'd insisted on moving Lydia into her own room, because one of her nightmares had made her cry so loud she'd woken the baby.

"You're alright. You're safe. Sophia ain't afraid anymore." Carol's breathing slowed, and she sighed against her pillow, her tense muscles relaxing as her dream faded into the darkness of her sleep.

It wasn't long before she was sleeping soundly again, barely moving save for the rise and fall of her chest. Daryl kept his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, but he had trouble falling back to sleep.

He knew the bad dreams would always be there. He knew she was still going to have bad nights from time to time. He'd been dealing with bad dreams since he was still just a little kid. Over the years, he'd come to expect them. He was thankful that he rarely remembered his dreams anymore. Sometimes, the occasional good one would stay fresh in his memory for a while, but most of them just faded away within moments of waking. He knew it was slowly becoming that way for Carol, too. Though some mornings, she'd be more pensive at breakfast. Some days, he'd catch her staring off as she rocked Lydia to sleep, and he knew she was thinking about the horrors she couldn't escape from in her sleep.

He drifted off to sleep sometime before dawn, but almost as quickly as he had dozed off, he woke again to her stirring in his arms. He cracked one eye open to find the first shades of sunlight filtering into the room, and when he groaned and stretched awake, he heard her sigh and turn toward him. He looked at her, gently brushing the hair from her eyes, and she smiled and kissed him good morning. The sparkle in her eyes told him she didn't remember the dream she'd had, and the last thing he wanted to do was remind her.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Carol rolled onto her back, stretching and moaning softly. The sunlight trickling through the curtains faded as clouds rolled in.

"Looks like a rainy day in," Carol murmured.

"Could think of a couple things I'd like to do on a rainy day," Daryl murmured, sliding his hand up her thigh and over her hip. Carol grinned when Daryl leaned in to kiss her, but the moment was cut short by a loud clap of thunder that shook the house and woke Lydia. Carol sighed when the girl's cries filled the house, and Daryl groaned, rolling onto his back.

"She'll go back to sleep," Carol whispered.

"She won't," Daryl grunted, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"She will. Just wait." Carol sat up behind Daryl, curling her arms around his shoulders and resting her head on his back. Daryl bent his head forward for a moment, and after a few minutes, Lydia's cries quieted to whimpers and then silence. "Told you so."

"How'd you know she was gonna do that?"

"That wasn't her _I'm awake_ cry. That was her _I was sleeping good and something woke me up_ cry." Daryl snorted then, and Carol kissed the spot between his shoulder blades. "Come back to bed."

"We're in bed," Daryl teased, as Carol slid away from him and back to her side of the bed.

"Then come over here and screw around with me." He heard the rustle of clothes, and Carol tossed her sleep shirt at him. It draped over his shoulder before sliding to the floor. When he peeked over at her, she was naked and waiting, and he couldn't help himself.

He pulled off his shirt and crawled over her, peppering kisses up her thigh, over her stomach and up between her breasts. She smiled then, arching her back when his hand stroked between her thighs. Carol reached into his pants, curling her fingers around his dick and giving him a few strokes as he slid his fingers through her wet heat. Carol's hips jerked impatiently, and Daryl couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips. He started to kiss down her chest again, and Carol knew what he wanted, but the whine that escaped her lips had him lifting his head.

"Tell me."

"I need you now," she bit out.

"Christ," he panted, shifting to remove his pants as Carol reached into the drawer by the bed, fishing for a condom. She handed him one packet, and as he slid the condom on, she rolled onto her stomach. He watched her get up on her hands and knees and spread her legs. She looked over her shoulder at him, her pupils blown wide, lips parted with each panting breath. He got up on his knees behind her, taking his cock in his hand. He gave himself two pumps as he slid against her wet folds, and then he pushed into her in one quick, hard thrust.

"Fuck," she groaned, gripping the pillows hard in her hands, bracing herself as he started to move. "Faster."

He gripped her hips in his hand, pulling back before slamming into her again. She groaned, arching her back and gasping for breath.

"Harder," she insisted through gritted teeth as he followed her commands, desperately gripping her hips out of fear of losing control. Carol moved with him, meeting his thrusts with her own deliberate motions as he slid one hand up her stomach and over her chest. He pulled her up so her back was flush against him, and she gripped the headboard of the bed for purchase. He nudged her knees further apart, changing the angle and he thrust up into her, harder as he took a breast in his hand. She cried out when he sucked at her neck, gently nipping there with his teeth before soothing over the skin with his tongue.

She bit her lip to keep her cries in check, but he knew she was on the brink. He loved when she told him what she wanted with a look or just a few words. He loved that sometimes, she'd take his hand without words and lead him outside to the barn and let him have his way with her out in the hay. Sometimes, she'd take charge, and whatever she wanted, he would freely give to her. His own appetite matched hers, and these past few months had been adventurous to say the least.

His hand slid up her chest and over her neck, and he gently bit her earlobe. She panted through an open-mouthed smile and turned her head when his mouth sought hers. She groaned against his mouth as his other hand trailed down her stomach and between her legs, rubbing her as he thrust into her. She gasped, and she took his bottom lip between her teeth, giving it a gentle nip and a tug. He broke the kiss then, and his hands moved back to her waist. She fell forward then, bracing her hands against the mattress as her walls contracted around him. Her body shook as a bolt of pleasure shot through her, and when she slumped over the pillows, Daryl finally let go, thrusting through it until he pulled out and collapsed beside her on the mattress.

"Fuck," he groaned, as Carol's shoulders shook with laughter.

"That never gets old," she grinned. Daryl rolled over to dispose of the condom, while Carol pulled the sheet up around herself.

"Gimme a few minutes, and we can go again." He reached for her, but she laughed and shook her head.

"I hate to break it to you, but that was the last condom. Sorry, Pookie."

"What? We just opened the box three days ago." Daryl furrowed his brows, and Carol covered her face with her hands and nodded. Daryl snorted and shook his head before sitting up and getting out of bed. "I'll make a supply run."

"In this weather? No. Stay home with us today." Daryl listened to another clap of thunder and he crossed the room to the window, peeking out behind the curtain. Rain was coming down in torrents, and there were already heavy patches of flooding out in the fields.

"Shit," Daryl muttered. "Keeps up like this, the garden's gonna be lost."

"It's been dry for days," Carol murmured. Daryl came back to bed and flopped down on the mattress.

"This mean I can't touch you 'til we get more condoms?"

"It means we can be creative," she teased. She slid her hand down his chest and then lower to the warm patch just below his navel. He groaned, and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes to try to distract himself.

Just as Carol's hand began to move lower, another clap of thunder shook the house, and Dog began to bark.

"Shit. He's really gonna wake her up now," Daryl muttered. Carol pulled her hand back and sighed, and when Daryl got up to search for his clothes, she admired his nude form. She grinned and bit her lip when he bent over to grab his pants off the floor. He dressed quickly and headed downstairs to let Dog out.

Carol got out of bed and dressed herself before going to check on Lydia. The little one was still sleeping soundly, so Carol padded down the stairs to find Daryl standing at the open front door with a growling Dog right at his heels.

"Daryl?" Carol asked, stepping off the stairs. Daryl held his hand up and then looked at her.

"Stay inside."

"What?" She took a step toward him, and he took a step to the closet. He grabbed his crossbow off the top shelf, and Carol's pulse began to race.

"Stay inside. Anything happens, you get Lydia and go, alright?"

"Daryl!" Carol called, as Daryl stepped out onto the front porch. Carol stepped up to the door just in time to see a cloaked figure walking across the field in the pouring rain. The figure limped as if badly injured, and Carol could tell Daryl was trying to figure out if it was a walker or a person.

Carol grabbed the shotgun from the closet and held it firmly in her hands, checking to make sure it was loaded first. Daryl kept Dog from getting out, and Dog scratched at the screen door in protest. The tall, cloaked figure stopped when Daryl started toward the field, and through a clap of thunder, a gunshot rang out. Carol cried out, when the bullet hit the side of the house, sending wood splintering where the small hole was made. Daryl pulled the trigger on his crossbow without hesitation, and the figure slumped down into the muddy field.

Daryl was almost halfway there when Carol stepped out onto the porch, shotgun aimed, eyes trained on the cloaked figure, finger poised on the trigger should it make any sudden movements.

"Drop your weapon!" Daryl growled, as he approached the figure that was groaning in pain on the ground. He watched a shaking hand pull the arrow from a blood-soaked thigh.

"God damn, boy! Got a helluva aim on you!" Daryl's breath caught in his throat at the sound of the voice, and when the figure peered up at him, squinting in the rain, he saw the ghost of another life looking back at him.

"Merle?" Daryl asked, flinching and wiping his hand over his brow.

"Baby brother?" Merle asked. "Jesus Christ, you ain't dead after all."

"Daryl!" Carol called from the front porch. Her voice barely carried through the rain, but it was enough to distract Merle Dixon. He peered into the rain, trying to make out the face that went with that voice, but before he could focus his gaze on her, Daryl brought the stock of his crossbow down hard on the back of his brother's head. In that moment, everything went black, and the last thing Merle Dixon tasted before he lost consciousness was the red, muddy rain water he fell into.

_Author's Note: Feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!_


	15. Merle

Chapter 15: Merle

"How's his leg?" Daryl asked, bringing Carol a fresh towel to replace the bloody one she'd been using.

"Well, it's not bleeding anymore. I'm no doctor, but I think I stitched it up pretty good." Carol worried her lip between her teeth as she wiped the rest of the blood off from around the jagged stitches. She nodded toward the pink scar on Merle's calf. "Looks like someone else shot him recently."

"Must be why he was limpin'. It don't surprise me."

"You didn't have to knock him out, Daryl."

"Yeah I did. You don't know my brother like I do." He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Hell, maybe I don't know my brother anymore. It's been almost a year since I seen him. Don't know what he musta thought when they left him up on that roof."

"That wasn't your fault. I'm sure Merle knows that," Carol said gently. She poured some peroxide over Merle's wound, patted it dry and then used a cotton swab to put some ointment on it. She gently placed some thick gauze over the wound and used medical tape to hold it into place.

"Ain't takin' no chances. Not with you and Lydia here."

"How is she?"

"Still sleepin'. Dog's standin' watch at her crib." Carol smiled a little at that, and she lifted Merle's mangled arm up, wincing at the crude scars from where he'd cut off his own hand. He had fashioned some sort of prosthetic metal arm with a knife sticking out of it, which Carol had promptly removed for cleaning. His good hand was currently tied with a rope to the bedpost.

"It's a wonder he didn't bleed out," Carol murmured.

"He's tough. Always been though. Swear to God, he shoulda died a dozen times over, but ain't nothin' killed him yet. Can't tell ya how many times I sat with him in the emergency room while they pumped the pills outta his stomach." He eyed his brother, watching the way his brow creased and he muttered something in his sleep. "I'll take over. Go get yourself cleaned up. Probably better if it's just me here when he wakes up."

"Alright." Carol stood then, wiping the blood off her hands with the towel Daryl had given her. She leaned in and kissed him softly before tugging the blanket over Merle's lower half. She made a mental note to find him a new pair of pants, since the ones he was currently wearing were ripped halfway up the thigh on one side. "You'll be alright?"

"M'good," he promised. She grabbed up all the bloodied towels and the first aid kit and took them away. She tossed the towels into the fireplace and washed her hands with warm, soapy water and then hand sanitizer for good measure.

Daryl slid a chair up by the bed in what used to be his room. After they'd cleaned up the mess created by the chimney issue, they'd turned it back into a useable bedroom. Now, it seemed, Merle was going to be their first guest.

Daryl grabbed the pack Merle had been carrying on his back and opened it up. He started going through it, finding a couple of hunting knives, some rope, a bag filled with jerky and some crackers. Underneath all that was a handful of bottles, mostly antibiotics and painkillers. Daryl sat them on the bedside table, and he kept looking.

There were three books. _Moby Dick_. _Frankenstein. Of Mice and Men_. Daryl smirked and tossed a skeptical look in his unconscious brother's direction. In all of their lives, he'd never so much as seen his brother pick up a book, let alone read, well, anything. Daryl started flipping through the books to pass the time, and he got through the first two pages of _Moby Dick_ before he shut it and tossed it aside. A lot of those big words were lost on him, so he wondered how the hell Merle made heads or tails out of it.

"It's all I had time to grab." Merle's hoarse voice snapped Daryl's attention back to his brother. "When Officer Friendly and his merry band of misfits lost the prison, they came knocking at Woodbury. That's the place I was at. The Governor torched the place. This is all I could grab."

"You saw Rick?" Daryl asked, sitting forward in his chair.

"That any way to greet your brother?" Merle grunted, trying to sit up in bed but failing thanks to the wound in his thigh and the angle at which his arm was tied to the bedpost. "What the hell is this?"

"Didn't know what kinda mood you'd be in when you woke up," Daryl bit out, narrowing his eyes at his brother. "You saw Rick?"

"Yeah, I saw Rick. And the rest of them. Well, give or take a few faces." He snorted. "Where you been, baby brother?"

"Here," Daryl said quietly. "Another farm before."

"Yeah. The old man's farm. Rick told me all about it. Sounded like a goddamn fairy tale."

"It was real," Daryl insisted. "We got separated. Been on our own since then."

"Who's we? Didn't quite make out who was calling your name 'fore you knocked my lights out."

"Carol."

"Carol? Carol. What? The little slip of thing that walked around afraid of her own shadow?" Merle asked. "She's still alive? Damn, I thought she'd have been food for the wolves by now." Daryl huffed out a breath and shook his head.

"Surprised to see you alive, too, bro. You didn't come back to the camp. Where'd you go?"

"Damn near died," Merle recalled. "Took some box truck I found with the keys still in the ignition. Made it about a half mile outta Atlanta when I passed out and wrecked. Woke up in the back of a pickup truck. Passed out again. Next thing I know, I'm wakin' up safe. There's walls, electricity, food, hot water. Christ, it took me a few minutes to realize the world was still fucked up." He chuckled. "Yeah, The Governor saved me, gave me a place to sleep and a job to do, and I thought about comin' back to look for you. Took a team to the quarry, but you was already gone. Left a hell of a mess and a trail of corpses halfway down the hill. Didn't know where to look for you after that." Daryl leaned back in his chair and studied his brother.

"Where is everybody?"

"Who? Rick? The rest of 'em?"

"Yeah. T-Dog. Carl. Lori."

"T-Dog. Son of a bitch that dropped the key," Merle laughed. "Didn't see him. Guess he's dead." He shrugged.

"Where are they?"

"Scattered. Don't know. 'Ole Merle ain't exactly their favorite person. See, I was on the wrong side of the wall when the prison fell."

"What?"

"They didn't just lose the prison. The Governor tried to take it from 'em. I was with him."

"You attacked them? Our people?"

"Ain't my people. Ain't been my people in a long time, little brother." Merle looked away. "Thing is, Rick said you was gone. Said you may not have even made it off that farm. Guess they didn't look too hard, did they?" Daryl flinched at that, and Merle looked him right in the eye. "How long you spend lookin' for him? Bet you been lookin' for 'em all this time, and they was settin' down roots about twenty miles from here in a big old prison. From the looks of it, you got the better end of the deal. Nice place. Warm."

"Did you see where they went?"

"The walls came down at Woodbury. People died on both sides. Didn't see who fell. Last thing I seen before the dead came was Rick puttin' a bullet in The Governor's head."

"You didn't see where they went?"

"Wasn't gonna stick around to see if Rick had another bullet for me," Merle snorted.

"How long ago?"

"A week. Two weeks ago," Merle muttered.

"Where?" Daryl got up out of his chair.

"What?"

"Can ya take me back there? Show me where you last saw 'em?"

"You really wanna go lookin' for a bunch of people that gave up lookin' for you?"

"You don't know him," Daryl spat out. "He had a wife and a kid and a baby on the way to think about. He had people to keep alive." He looked toward the stairs. "So did I."

"Even if I could take you back there, who knows where the hell they run off to? Could be anywhere." Daryl ran his fingers through his hair and started pacing, and Merle shook his head. "Look at you. Still trying to be the hero."

"Shut up." He heard footsteps overhead, and he looked back to Merle. "Me and Rick? We went back for you. Glenn and T-Dog, too. You was already gone. Nothin' left but your hand."

"Damage was done. Too little, too late."

"So ya joined up with your Governor buddy? Started shootin' at women and kids?" Daryl growled.

"It weren't like that," Merle snapped. "Didn't know what he was really about 'til it was too late. When he killed the old man, that was it for me. I didn't fire a shot. Hmm. Too little, too late."

"The old man? He killed Hershel?"

"Old man with one leg. Wasn't much of a threat. He killed him anyway. You knew him?"

"Yeah. He was a good man. Decent."

"Then m'sorry for yer loss, brother." He sat up a little on the bed. "You wanna untie me, already?"

"You gonna behave yourself?"

"What the fuck am I gonna do?" Merle snorted. "I got one hand, and you fucked up my already fucked up leg. I ain't doin' shit for at least a week." Daryl eyed him before reaching up to loosen the restraint and untie him. If he'd had his other hand, he would've rubbed his aching wrist like the criminals in movies always did when the handcuffs were removed. Instead, he scratched his stubble-covered jaw. "So it's just you and her, huh? The housewife? Always thought she had a great ass."

"Don't talk about her," Daryl snapped.

"Ooh, I hit a sore spot? You hitting that?"

"Fuck off, Merle, 'fore I change my mind about the rope."

"Oh, baby brother. M'proud of ya. Was startin' to think maybe you swung the other direction. Know what I mean?"

"I think the dead know what you mean," Daryl muttered.

"She any good?" Merle asked with a grin, licking his lips. "C'mon. Been a while since I had a woman. You think she'd…" Daryl lunged toward Merle and grabbed him by the shirt.

"Told you not to fuckin' talk about her," he growled. Merle raised his hand and his stump in surrender.

"Alright. Alright. Didn't mean nothin' by it. She your girlfriend or somethin'?"

"No." Daryl let go of Merle's shirt and started out of the room. "She's my wife."

...

Carol lay on her side on the bed, while Lydia sat in the center, reaching for her favorite toys. She brought a rattle to her mouth and gummed at it, while Carol gently stroked her fingers through the curls at the nape of Lydia's neck.

She looked toward the door when she heard footsteps in the hall, and in a moment, Daryl opened the door and stepped inside.

"How is he?" Carol asked softly. Lydia looked toward Daryl and squealed, holding her arms out for him.

"Da! Da da da!" Daryl sat down on the bed and pulled Lydia into his lap, kissing the top of her head.

"He's awake. He's…Merle."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Depends on the day, I guess," Daryl snorted. He looked at her. "He saw Rick and the others." Carol's eyes widened, and she sat up.

"When? Where?"

"Couple weeks ago he saw 'em last. Said they were holed up at a prison. Merle was followin' somebody who called himself The Governor, and I guess they got into it with Rick. Said the prison fell, so Rick and the group went to the place Merle and The Governor were at. Guess it fell, too. Merle's been on his own since. Said it was just a couple weeks ago. They were just about twenty miles from here, Merle said."

"You want to look for them," Carol said quietly.

"I want Merle to take me where he saw 'em last. They could still be…"

"They could still be there. Or they could be miles away." Carol sighed heavily.

"But we could find 'em."

"I want to find them too. Just as much as you do. I just don't want you risking your life." Daryl leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.

"I'll be careful. Promise," he murmured. "Won't be 'til Merle's feelin' up to it."

"I know you have to do this," Carol whispered. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I gotta try," he murmured. "You know that, right?"

"I know. It's one of the many reasons I love you. You always try. And I know you won't forgive yourself if you don't." He kissed her again, and when he pulled away, she brushed her hand against his cheek.

"Please watch your back out there. I know he's your brother, but he's not good for you."

"I can handle Merle," he insisted. "But first I gotta convince him to take me out there."

"Well, does he really even have a choice?"

"With Merle, there's the right choice and then there's the choice that works best for Merle. Guess I'm just gonna have to make sure he makes the choice that's best for all of us."

_Author's Note: Feedback is always appreciated! Please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!_


	16. Family

Chapter 16: Family

Merle hadn't gotten a good look at Daryl's wife since he'd regained consciousness, and he had a feeling that Daryl wanted Carol to keep her distance. He knew why. He hadn't exactly been the best big brother. He'd gotten his ass beaten black and blue more than a few times growing up, and he knew Daryl had too. He'd tried to shield him from most of it, but he knew that once he was out of the house, Daryl had gotten it just as bad if not worse than he had.

His head throbbed. He knew he was lucky Daryl hadn't split his head open like a melon when he'd hit him. Still, he had a good-sized goose egg on the back of his skull that he was sure would be there for a while. He figured he'd done something over the years to deserve it, so he was going to let Daryl have that one. But only that one.

He watched the way Daryl peered in at him every time he passed the room, and he would hear footsteps occasionally coming from overhead. The attic. He wondered with amusement if they weren't clearing it out to keep him chained up in there like some kind of house pet.

No. He knew his brother better than that. Daryl would come around. As much of a dick as he'd been, as many bad choices as he'd made over the years, they were still brothers, and that blood bond meant something whether Daryl wanted it to or not.

When Daryl came back by the room with a box in his arms, Merle finally had had enough of his brother's back and forth.

"The hell are you doin'? You got geeks in the attic or somethin'?"

"We got stuff in the attic. Stuff you're gonna need if you're gonna be stayin' in our house. Blankets. Clothes."

"You want me to stay?" Merle asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're gonna make yourself at home whether we like it or not," Daryl smirked, coming into the room and putting a box down in front of the closet. "How's the leg?"

"Feels better'n my head. Ya have to hit me so goddamn hard?"

"Yeah." Daryl folded his arms across his chest, and a smile spread across Merle's face.

"Taught you well, boy." He eyed his brother. Something had changed in the past year. He stood more confidently. He didn't look so uncomfortable in his own skin. His hair had grown out some. He looked him in the eye, even if he looked away after a few uncomfortable moments. He carried himself like a man, not like a punk-ass kid looking for a fight. He'd grown up, and Merle was certain that woman had had a thing or two to do with it. "Didn't she have a kid? A husband?"

"Yeah. She did," Daryl said with a nod, leaning against the door frame.

"What happened to 'em?"

"What happens to everybody?" Daryl asked. "They ain't here."

"Sorry. Kid always looked so scared. Like her mama. I knew it the second I saw that prick. He beat her, didn't he?" Daryl said nothing, but the way he flinched told Merle all he needed to know. "Good riddance. Sorry 'bout the girl, though." He watched the way Daryl stared at him for a moment before crossing the room to sit in the chair by the bed. "What's the matter with you? You're lookin' at me like you seen a ghost."

"Feels like I'm lookin' at one," Daryl admitted. "Buried you a long time ago."

"Started over with your new family. Then made yourself a new one when they left you behind."

"The hell did either one of us know 'bout family?" Daryl asked. "Don't know how we both lived through that shit."

"Maybe it was the universe's way of preparin' us for the bullshit we're livin' through now. Sick fuckin' joke, but we're still kickin'." Merle looked to his brother. "How'd she die?" Daryl looked at him. "The girl."

"Traffic snarl on the highway." Daryl's voice was low, and his gaze fell away from Merle's face. "She got scared. Ran. Walkers went after her." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She was just gone. We looked for her. She was gone. Walkers got to her 'fore we could."

"Christ," Merle muttered. "A kid dyin' like that? If that ain't the proof you need there ain't no Almighty sittin' in a chair made of clouds, I sure don't know what is." Daryl raised his gaze to meet his brother's.

"You gonna take me to Woodbury? Where you saw Rick?"

"I'll take ya. But it's a goddamn graveyard. Your boy Rick? He's probably halfway 'cross the state by now. But I'll take you." Daryl nodded then, and across the hall, Lydia began to cry. Merle looked up in surprise and saw the color drain from Daryl's face. "You got a kid here?" He narrowed his eyes at him. Daryl sighed heavily and disappeared from the room, finding Carol standing by Lydia's crib, holding the crying infant.

"She ok?" Daryl asked. Carol nodded.

"She just wanted her mama. Right, Lydia?" Lydia fussed and buried her face against Carol's neck. "How's Merle?"

"He agreed to take me back to Woodbury. That's somethin'."

"Yeah," Carol murmured. "As long as he agrees to bring you back."

"Well, look at this cozy scene." Carol and Daryl both turned to see Merle leaning against the doorframe, a grimace set on his face as he fought back the pain.

"Merle. You should be in bed," Carol insisted. "Your stitches could break."

"Nah, looks like you did a damn fine job. I'm guessin' it was you. Baby brother woulda probably sewn my mouth shut if he had a chance." He smiled wildly, and at Daryl's annoyed look, he chuckled. He nodded to the baby and looked at Daryl. "She kinda looks like you."

"She ain't…" Daryl bit back the words before he could stumble over them. "We found her. She's ours, but we found her."

"Good to see you again, Merle," Carol said flatly, shifting Lydia in her arms. "Glad you woke up."

"Are ya?" Merle laughed. "Well, at least somebody's happy to see me. Can't say my little brother's too thrilled just yet. Maybe he's just worried you'll realize you married the wrong brother."

"Go to hell Merle," Carol snorted. Merle watched the grin play across Daryl's face when he looked at her. Yeah. His brother was a married man. And he sure could do a lot worse, as far as Merle was concerned. There was a fire in her eyes that he hadn't seen back at the quarry. Of course, she'd barely spoken to him back then, let alone looked at him long enough for him to see what was behind those gorgeous, blue eyes. But the way she looked at Daryl? Yeah, Daryl had himself a good woman, and the tug in Merle's gut made him feel a type of way he wasn't used to feeling. For the first time in his forty-seven years of life, he was jealous. Daryl had grown up, grown as far away from the man he was just a year ago. And he was all the better for it. Merle wasn't just jealous. He was proud.

"So, what's her name?" Merle asked. Daryl and Carol stared at him for a moment. "Always wanted to be an uncle. Only right I know what to call my first niece." He saw the slight start of a smile hiding on Carol's face beneath the veil of uncertainty. And then the tension eased from her shoulders. She handed Lydia over to Daryl, who bounced the baby girl in his arms. "Her name's Lydia."

"Lydia," Merle considered for a moment. "Lydia Dixon. It's a good name. Strong." He turned then and hobbled back to his room with a grin spread across his face. For the first time in his life, his baby brother had a real family.

_Author's Note: I'm always nervous doing Merle's point of view, so I hope this did the character justice. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading!_


	17. Interlude

Chapter 17: Interlude

Carol gently placed the baby monitor on the bedside table and crawled into bed beside Daryl. He was sprawled out under the blankets, staring up at the ceiling with his bottom lip worried between his teeth.

"Lyddie's out like a light."

"Merle?"

"Him, too. I gave him something for the pain."

"Surprised he ain't built up a tolerance by now," Daryl muttered.

"Well, he was snoring, and might I add, drooling, when I left him," Carol pointed out. Daryl snorted.

"You sure you're alright with him bein' here?" He nodded toward the door. "With Lydia here?"

"He's your brother. As much of an asshole he is, I don't think he'd ever do anything to hurt you on purpose." She leaned over and kissed him, and Daryl groaned, pulling his arms around her. She smiled, looking down at him. "Besides, Dog's sleeping out in the hallway. He'll let us know if Merle stirs." She crawled on top of him then, and Daryl stared up at her with a look somewhere between surprise and shock on his face. "Thought you said we couldn't. No condoms, remember?"

"Guess what I found in the attic this morning?" Carol beamed. She nodded toward the bedside table before climbing off of him. Daryl rolled to the side and reached into the drawer to pull out a full box. "You must have forgotten them after one of your runs."

"This day gets better'n better," he muttered, getting a laugh out of her. He fumbled with the box for a moment, tearing the top open, while Carol shifted in the bed beside him. When he rolled onto his back, Carol was already naked beside him, and he cocked an eyebrow at her. "Holy shit." She grinned at him, and she climbed back on top of him, feeling him stirring inside of his sleep pants. She gently ran her hands up his shirt and over his stomach, and his muscles jumped beneath her touch.

"Clothes. Off." She straddled his waist, and he arched up, and with her help, he tugged his shirt over his head. Carol's hands were on the drawstring of his pants next, and—again—with her help, he wriggled out of them and kicked them aside. She gently pushed him back against the bed, biting her lip as she closed her eyes and rolled her head back. She rocked her hips against his, each movement making him harder, each brush of her core over his cock working them both into a hunger for one another.

He took his time looking at her. He slid his hands up and down her back and then over her hips before bringing his hands up her ribs and over her breasts. She sighed and bowed her head forward when he came up to take a nipple between his teeth. She moaned softly, reaching between them to stroke him as she slid against him.

"Fuck," he bit out, his hot breath hitting her skin and making her shiver. Her core was throbbing, and as he tugged at her breast with his lips and teeth, she reached for the box of condoms, slipping one out and tearing open the package. Daryl lay back against the mattress then, watching her breasts sway as she reached between them to slide the condom over his dick. And he closed his eyes and leaned his head back when she sunk down on him, taking him all the way in as slowly as she could. His hips bucked, and she gasped when he hit her cervix. It nearly knocked the breath from her. "You ok?" She nodded her head, pressing her hands down against his chest as she leaned forward and rocked against him. "Hey. Look at me." She opened her eyes, and he brought his hand up the back of her neck before pulling her down to kiss him. She curled her hands into his hair, riding him slowly as his tongue slid against her lips. Her nerves felt on fire as is hands moved freely down her back and over her ass before gripping her hips and helping her find a rhythm.

She pulled back then, admiring the way his eyes rolled back when her walls squeezed around him. She kissed him again, smiling against his mouth when he groaned against hers. Her legs trembled, and she reached between them, wrapping her hand around the base of his dick, using just enough pressure his eyes opened and he surged closer to the edge.

"Carol," he grunted. "Jesus Christ." He squeezed his eyes shut tight, but she let go of him, arching back and placing her hands on his chest as she rocked faster and harder against him. His fingers dug into her hips, and when he moved them, the little white dots turned pink from the pressure of his fingers. She gasped when his hips bucked again, and when she slowed, he took the opportunity to pull out of her and flip her onto her back.

She whimpered when he crawled over her, curling his hand behind her knee and draping her leg over his hip. He looked down at her with a devilish gleam in his eye, and she smiled wide when he leaned forward to kiss her.

He eased into her then, slowly, and he tugged her bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a little nip before he began to move. She moaned softly against his mouth, crying out when he reached between them and teased her clit. Her hips bucked against him, and he eased his hand up and down the inside of her thigh, driving her crazy as he pushed faster and deeper, bringing her over just in time for him to reach his own peak. He groaned against her neck, relaxing against her as she clung to him and peppered warm kisses against his jaw.

"Love you," she whispered.

"Me too," he chuckled, getting a grin out of her. "Love you so damn much." He lay with her for a few moments, still connected with her, memorizing the way her eyes fluttered shut when she leaned her head back and took a deep breath. He watched the way the flush in her neck and down her chest began to fade, the way the stiff peaks of her nipples softened until he leaned down to tease them with his mouth again. And she laughed and pushed at his shoulders, easing him off of her. He chuckled and pulled out of her, rolling onto his back and wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "What brought that on?"

"What?" Carol asked innocently, a blush spilling across her cheeks. Daryl eyed her. "Hey, you're getting ready to leave me. I wanted to get as much time in with my husband as possible before…"

"Hey," Daryl stopped her. "I'm comin' back to ya. You know that, right?"

"I know. But there could be problems," she said quietly, rolling to her side to face him. She gently stroked his cheek with her thumb. "Just promise me you'll try to get back safely."

"I will," he insisted. "Might even be comin' home with our friends."

"It feels strange," Carol murmured. "It's been so long. We've changed so much. I just wonder…have they changed, too?" Daryl thought for a moment. What if they _had_ changed. What if they were strangers now?

"They're still our people. Even if we ain't been with 'em. They're still family."

"Yeah," Carol agreed. "I know. I just hope Rick knows that, too."

...

Carol was restless. Despite being thoroughly spent, she wasn't sleeping well. Her tossing and turning had Daryl stirring in his sleep, and she wanted him to get as much rest as he could in before heading out with his brother on what might turn into a rescue mission.

She found her clothes in the dark and slipped out of the room and past Dog in the hall. He whined and lifted his head, but when he saw it was only Carol, he lay his head back down and let her slip into Lydia's room without another sound.

Carol leaned over the crib to see Lydia sleeping soundly, her little lips making a sucking motion as he curled her fist by her face.

Carol smiled and yawned and turned to leave the room. She shut the door and started back to her room when she heard a groan from Merle's room. She hesitated and then came the sound again. In a moment, his door came open, and Dog leapt to his feet. He limped into the hallway and paused when he saw Carol standing there in the dark.

"What do you need, Merle?"

"Need to take a piss," he snorted. "That alright with you?" His words were slurred from exhaustion and pain medication, and Carol nodded, eyeing him as he lumbered toward the bathroom. Carol slipped into his room then, turning the light on and finding his bed was dotted with blood. She sighed and retrieved the first aid kit from the hall again. When Merle returned, he looked surprised to find her in his room.

"What would my little brother think if he knew his wife was visitin' his brother in the wee hours of the mornin'?" he asked, stumbling over to his bed.

"I think he'd say 'shut up and let her stop you from bleeding to death.'" Merle smirked, and she raised an eyebrow. "You're bleeding. Let me see." Merle groaned and started reaching for the waist of his pants. Carol held a hand up and looked away. Merle laughed.

"You're the one who wanted to see," he teased. "Don't worry. I got shorts on." He pulled his bloodied sweats down, and to Carol's relief, he was telling the truth. But the bandage was soaked through, and Carol frowned at the sight. Merle propped his leg on a pillow and Carol gently pulled back the tape around the bandage. She tossed the soiled bandage away, reached into the first aid kit and squeezed a sizeable dollop of sanitizer in her hands. She rubbed them together quickly but efficiently.

"You a doctor or somethin'?"

"No. Having a husband like Ed? Well, let's just say, hospital bills add up." She used a dry cloth to gently dab at the wound. "He cut me right here once. Kitchen knife." She slid her finger against a very pale scar on the side of her wrist. It was about two inches long and faded like the memory of the bastard that had done it to her.

"You sewed it up yourself?"

"Hmm."

"Badass," Merle laughed.

"Nothing badass about it. Desperate, maybe."

"You did what you had to do. You survived. I know a little somethin' about that. Daryl too. Maybe more'n me."

"I did what I had to do," she agreed. She narrowed her eyes at the wound. "Stitches aren't broken. Just pulled a little. You'll live." She grabbed the ointment and spread some over the stitches before putting fresh gauze and tape over the wound. "Pull your pants up."

"Don't think I ever heard a woman say that to me before," he said with a cocky smirk.

"Go to hell, Merle," Carol muttered with an eye roll. Merle laughed and stood long enough to pull his sweats back up, blood be damned. He'd change them in the morning. Carol used the sanitizer again and eyed Merle as she rubbed her hands together. "What?"

"I never thought I was strong. Not back then. But I was a mom. I fought like hell to keep my daughter safe, to keep her from seeing what her daddy did to me. I wish I'd been stronger, but I was as strong as I could be then. As strong as I thought I could be." Merle narrowed his eyes at her. "I know Daryl. I have a fairly good sense of who you are, but we're still strangers."

"What're you getting at?"

"I know you love your brother. I know you want what's best for him."

"You know a lot," Merle muttered, leaning back against his pillow and folding his arms behind his head.

"Don't mess with Daryl. He's come a long way. He has. But you're his brother, and I know you know how to get into his head. If you do? I'll know."

"You threatening me?"

"Just telling you. He has a family. We have a daughter. Daryl's ten times the man he'd have become if you'd had anything to say about it. I know this, because I've seen him struggle with who he was, with who you wanted him to be, with who he is. But that scared boy, that little brother that always got slapped around? He's still in there. That woman I was? The woman whose husband threw her into walls and forced her to…" She swallowed hard but didn't break eye contact with him. "She's still here." She put her hand against her chest. "Don't hurt him. I think you're the only person in the world with that kind of power. Just…don't." She got up then, leaving the first aid kit on Merle's bedside table. She started for the door, and Merle shifted on his bed.

"Hey." Carol turned. She looked right into his eyes and saw him nod. "My baby brother's lucky to have you." Carol let out a shaky breath and nodded her head.

"I know." Merle chuckled at that. "I'm pretty lucky to have him, too." She turned then, closing his door and retreating to the bathroom to wash her hands. She splashed some water on her face and looked up into the mirror. Sometimes, it took her a moment to recognize herself. Sometimes, her eyes looked like they belonged to a completely different person. Sometimes, she had to remind herself that even with the hell they were living in, there was still something good, something just for her and for Daryl.

When she slipped back down the hall and into her room, she crawled back into bed, and Daryl reached for her. He groaned softly and pressed a kiss to the top of Carol's head.

"You ok?" he asked sleepily.

"Mmm," she assured him. She turned her face toward his and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'm good. Go back to sleep."

_Author's Note: Thank you all for your wonderful feedback! Please keep it coming. Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for reading! _


	18. Goodbye

Chapter 18: Goodbye

"You sure you're feelin' up to this now?" Daryl asked, eyeing Merle as they stood outside tossing the last of their provisions in the back of the pickup truck.

"Leg's fine. Carol says I ain't gonna lose my leg. Hurts like a son of a bitch, but I ain't gonna die. She even gave me some extra bandages and ointment to put on it. I like her." Daryl set his crossbow on top of their packs and threw a tarp over it in case of rain.

"Don't like leavin' her."

"You're the one wanted to go lookin' for Rick. You pussyin' in out now?"

"We stopped lookin' 'cause the trail was gone. We were goin' in circles. They were nobody left. Winter was comin', and then we found Lydia, and it made sense to stay put."

"Well, he didn't look for you, so don't let him make you feel bad for not lookin' for you," Merle said with a shrug. "Why don't you stay?"

"What?"

"Stay with your family. I'll go lookin' for 'em."

"You ain't in no condition to go out there by yourself. You get caught in a herd, you ain't gettin' out alive. Not with one hand and a bum leg."

"You don't give your big brother enough credit. Ain't I the one that sawed my own hand off?"

"Yeah, and ya nearly died 'til someone found your sorry ass. Ain't that what you said?" Merle snorted at that but said nothing. "And if you showed up alone? Rick might put a bullet in you."

"Who says he won't put one in you, baby brother?" Merle asked. "You ever think of that? You been away so long, you might as well be a goddamn stranger, another walker on the road to put down." Daryl shook his head.

"You don't know Rick."

"Yeah, but I know what a man will do to protect the people he loves." He put his hand on his thigh, over the spot Daryl had shot him with the crossbow. "You shot first, asked questions later. What the hell do you think he's gonna do?" Daryl said nothing then. He turned and looked at the house. "We both die? She's gonna spend the rest of her life wonderin' what happened to you. Now you go say a proper goodbye, and you tell her you're comin' back. Even if the last thing you say to her turns out to be a lie, at least she'll think you tried." Daryl turned to stare at his brother. He stared hard, and for a moment, he wanted to knock him across the jaw with his fist, but he didn't. He just looked back to the house. Because, Merle had a point. He might never see her again. Something could happen. Anything. They could get overrun by walkers. They could run into strangers. They could get into a wreck and bleed out on the side of the road.

He'd gone on runs before; left her for a day or two at a time, but the reality Merle was pounding into his head at that moment felt almost like a death sentence. He knew he was going to see her again, but there was always a chance something could go wrong. This wasn't like a supply run. This was going to a graveyard and hoping to find someone alive.

Daryl started up to the house, and when he stepped inside, Dog perked up from where he was laying on the floor in front of the cold fireplace. Lydia was sitting in her bouncy seat, and she started kicking her legs when she saw her daddy. He could hear Carol clattering around in the kitchen, so he took the opportunity to pick Lydia up from her seat and kiss her chubby cheeks.

"I'll bring you somethin' special home, alright? Maybe a new toy or a stuffed animal? Would ya like that, sweetheart?" Lydia giggled when Daryl kissed her cheeks again, and he held her close, gently rubbing her back as she snuggled into his chest.

"Da da dada," she cooed. It warmed his heart and broke it at the same time. Leaving felt worse this time. He was going out on this trip with Merle, leaving Carol and the baby behind, and while he knew they'd be safe in the house with what weapons they had and with Dog, the idea that something might keep him from getting back to them or might separate them for longer than he intended made his heart ache.

"Gonna miss you, Lydia," he murmured. "You and your mama." He kissed the top of her head. "Love you and your mama."

"We love you, too." He turned to see Carol standing in the archway that led into the kitchen. "You'll be safe?"

"Nine lives," he promised. Carol smiled at that, but there was a sadness in her eyes that he couldn't miss. He kissed Lydia's soft hair one more time before strapping her back into her bouncy seat. He stood then and crossed the room to his wife.

"You have everything you need?" she asked, as he pulled his arms around her.

"Almost," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her softly. "Hate leavin' you."

"I know. I hate you leaving, too, but if there's a chance our people are out there, I know…we have to try." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. "Promise me you'll come back if the trail is cold."

"I'm comin' back home to you. No matter what. With or without Rick. I'm comin' home." He kissed her again. "This feels different. Leavin' like this." He leaned his forehead against hers. "You got plenty of food. Lydia, too. Make sure the doors are locked. You hear or see anything, you know where all the guns are."

"I can handle it," Carol promised. Daryl still looked worried. "I had a good teacher. If anything happens, I'm pretty sure I can take care of myself."

"Anything happens and you have to leave with Lydia?" Daryl started. "Go back to the beginning."

"The quarry?"

"Remember how to find it?"

"Yeah," Carol offered with a nod. "But we don't need to worry about that. Because nothing's going to happen. You're coming home."

"I'm comin' home." He kissed her again and held her tight. And when she pulled away, she gave his chest a gentle push.

"Now get outta here so you can get there and get back home."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled. She smiled, and they kissed once more. He took her hand in his and led her outside. Merle had pulled the truck up in front of the house, and Daryl shook his head.

"Hell no. Get out. I'm drivin'."

"Ain't driven' nothin' in so long, I almost forgot what it felt like."

"Exactly. I'm driving. Move over." Carol grinned at their banter, and Merle smirked.

"Don't think I didn't see my bike sittin' in that barn."

"Yeah, I know it's yours. But you were gone, and I wasn't leavin' it to the dead."

"Well, we get back from all this, I'm takin' her back."

"Yeah, I remember you don't share your toys," Daryl snorted.

"Boys," Carol chastised. Merle scooted over in the seat, and Carol stepped off the porch with Daryl. She leaned into the driver's window, and she looked at Merle.

"He might be your brother, but he's my husband."

"I'll make sure he comes back to you in…at least one piece."

"Asshole," Carol snorted, getting a grin out of Merle. "Be careful."

"Careful. That ain't no fun." Carol narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. "We'll be careful, Mrs. Dixon."

"See, now _that's_ what I like to hear," she laughed. She straightened up then and turned to face Daryl. "I'll miss you."

"Me too," he murmured, resting his hands on her waist. "A week. Two tops. Then I'm comin' home." He kissed her then, and he felt her tremble in his arms. He heard a ragged gasp escape her throat, and he knew she was trying not to cry. He swallowed back the lump in his throat, and he managed a small smile for her when he pulled away.

Without further words, he got into the truck and drove away, casting one last look into the rear view mirror to see her turning in the dust and walking back to the house.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!_


	19. The Strangers

Chapter 19: The Strangers

The walls around Woodbury stood. The gates were busted through and the burnt out properties were crawling with walkers. Daryl parked a half mile from the town, and he and Merle sat sharing a set of binoculars. There were bodies littering the ditches and roads, many faces Daryl didn't recognize. But the way Merle looked when he saw them told a different story.

"You knew 'em," Daryl said quietly, peering through the binoculars for any sign of life past the gates of Woodbury. With the number walkers coming in and out of the gates, he didn't find it likely there would be anyone left.

"Yeah. I knew 'em. Most of 'em. Didn't know their names or nothin'. This one here?" He tapped the window glass with his stump and looked down at the rotting corpse of a blonde woman. "I knew her name. Laura. She worked in the library. Loaned me books sometimes. Warmed my bed some nights, too. Damn shame. She was sweet." He looked away from the corpse and glanced at his brother. Daryl put the binoculars down and put the truck into drive. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, and Merle noticed. "You worried 'bout her, ain't ya? It's been a day and a damn half. Christ, she knows how to take care of herself, don't she?"

"She knows," Daryl bit out, driving slowly toward the gates.

"You left her with food, weapons and the damn dog. Anything tries to get into that house, they're gonna regret it."

"I know."

"Then get your head out of the damn clouds, boy, and focus." Daryl snapped his head to face Merle.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, I wouldn't? Christ, you know how many nights I beat my fists bloody on the walls at juvie? Why'd I do that, huh? I was just a dumbass kid, but the one thing I knew was that while I was locked up, he was beatin' on you. Maybe givin' you worse than I ever got. And there wasn't a fuckin' thing I could do about it." Daryl said nothing. He only gripped the steering wheel tighter.

A few walkers spotted the truck and started staggering their way. Daryl rounded the corner by the gates and drove by slowly, seeing nothing but a mass of walking corpses bumping into one another, their dead senses seeking something fresh and warm to sink their teeth into.

"Ain't nothin' here. Let's get outta here," Merle urged. Daryl stepped on the gas, and a few walkers trailed them, but after a mile, they were nothing but tiny dots in Daryl's rear view mirror. "I hate to say I told you so, but…"

"Then don't," Daryl bit out.

"What? You wanna try trackin' 'em with all these geeks around? Look, I know you been holed up in your love nest for a while, but them fuckers don't stop. And once they get hold of you, it's game over."

"Would ya just shut up for a minute?" Daryl asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. Merle smirked.

"You just can't admit this was a bad idea."

"Can't say I didn't try," Daryl spat. He leaned back in his seat and cut off the ignition. Merle raised his eyebrows and looked around to make sure there weren't any walkers close.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"How far is the prison?"

"You're shittin' me, right?"

"How far?"

"Another six miles or so."

"Can you get us there from here?"

"Can I? Yeah. Will I?" He started to say something else, but Daryl pounded his fist on the dash. Merle watched him, watched his hand slide down and watched him slump in his seat.

"What's got this fire lit under you, baby brother? What makes findin' Officer Friendly so goddamn important?"

"You wouldn't understand." They sat in silence for a moment. Daryl chewed the edge of his thumbnail, an old nervous habit he hadn't found himself doing lately. But now, as he sat there in the old pickup with his brother at his side, he thought back to the highway traffic snarl and the farm. He remembered the hot blood pumping through his veins when he pulled himself out of that river gully. He remembered the hope that had filled him at the start of that trip, a hope that blossomed anew when he found Sophia's doll. He'd been certain he was going to find her, and he hadn't. And before that, he'd failed to find his own brother. Of course, Merle and his resourcefulness had had something to do with that. Still, he hadn't gotten to him in time.

All of these rescue missions had left him empty handed, and now here he was, still looking, still coming up short. And the bitch of it all was that his heart wasn't really in it this time around. As much as he wanted to find the rest of the group, now that he was out looking for them, all he wanted was to be back home with his wife and baby.

"Why are we here?" Merle asked, narrowing his eyes at his brother. "Your head ain't in this. 'Least your heart ain't, anyway. Why'd you drag us out here?"

"I got a kid, alright? What's her life gonna be like if all she's got is me and her mama? And maybe you? She's gonna be alone. 'Cause we ain't gonna be here forever. She's gonna need people. That farm? It's home. But it's only gonna be home so long as there's people there to make it that way. Right now? We're doin' alright. But ten years from now? Hell, I could get taken out by a walker tomorrow. What if…what if somethin' were to happen to me or to Carol while she's still just a baby?"

"I'd make sure she's taken care of," Merle offered.

"No offense, bro, but you couldn't keep a cockroach alive." Merle snorted but shook his head. His brother had a point, but he wasn't going to let him give him shit without getting a little back.

"The second you picked that kid up and took her home, you knew what you was askin' for. That kid? She don't give a pile of horse shit what you're worried about. All she cares about is she's got somebody to change her diaper when she shits and put a bottle in her mouth when she's hungry. Somebody else could shoot you dead and take her home tomorrow, and she wouldn't know the goddamn difference."

"You ain't raisin' my daughter."

"M'bettin' her own folks planned on raisin' her, and then the world turned into a fuckin' nightmare and flipped everybody on their asses. I ain't sayin' I'm gonna raise your daughter, but I kept myself alive for damned near fifty years."

"Don't give yourself so much credit. I'm the one that dragged your ass to the hospital to have your stomach pumped enough times I could probably count 'em on two hands."

"That ain't me anymore," Merle considered. "I admit, I'm a prick. But the shit that went down back there?" He nodded his head back toward Woodbury. "That ain't never gonna happen to me again. I'll make goddamn sure." He leaned his head back and stared out the window. "You need Rick, 'cause you think havin' your family back together again will secure a future for your kid? Let me tell you somethin', little brother. If it came down to your kid and his kid, which one you think Officer Friendly would choose first?" Daryl glanced at his brother and swallowed hard. He sighed and started off down the road again. "Yeah. See, you got this idea that things are gonna work the way they used to, but this world's always gonna be kill or be killed. It comes down to it, and he's gotta choose? He's always gonna choose his own. You'd be wise to do the same."

Carol bathed Lydia after supper, and once she gave her a warm bottle and got her settled down for the evening, she stepped out on the front porch and let Dog out to do his business. She settled in the porch swing, watching the fireflies come out. As the daylight faded slowly into dusk, she thought about where Daryl was, if he was safe, if he'd found anyone.

The more she thought about it, the more her stomach twisted into knots. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she'd ever see him again.

The idea of it was driving her crazy. She was half tempted to go off after them, but she couldn't do that to Lydia. She needed to keep her safe, not drag her off into the wild out there where anything could happen.

The thought had been in the back of her mind for some time. What if something _did_ happen to the farm? What if she had to take Lydia and run? How would she survive out there with a baby? The thought of it was chilling. It truly was not a world meant for children any longer, and that was why they had to do everything they could to protect her.

Dog finished his business and took off chasing the fireflies, and as the night darkened and the moon rose high in the sky, Carol began to feel sleepy.

"Dog. Come on, boy. Come on." She whistled for him, and he reluctantly stopped chasing the bugs and followed her commands. She got up and held the door open for him to let him in. She turned to take one last look toward the fields before she headed back in for the night.

It hadn't taken her long to fall asleep. It was a restless sleep filled with nothing but nightmares. Some were about Ed, but most were about Daryl and Merle and what awful things might be happening to them.

It wasn't until she heard something shatter downstairs, followed by Dog's frantic barking that she sat up straight in her bed and listened. Thankfully, the commotion hadn't woken Lydia, and Carol quickly pulled herself out of bed and reached for the gun under the mattress.

She could hear voices downstairs and screaming, and Dog was still barking, and when she stepped out of the room, she heard a man yell out as Dog growled.

"Dog!" Carol yelled. The dog kept growling, and the man kept yelling, and Carol flipped on the lights, surprising one of the intruders, who gasped audibly. Carol made it to the landing and aimed her weapon.

"I don't know who you are or what you want, but if you agree to leave, I'll call off my Dog and let you go."

"Please! We just need a place to sleep for the night! We've come so far!" It was a woman's voice. "Please." Carol took a step down the stairs, peering into the dim light from the foyer lamp.

"Get your goddamn dog off me!" the man yelled, struggling as the dog sank his teeth harder into the man's ankle.

"Dog! Off!" Carol commanded, keeping her gun raised as she took another step down the stairs. Dog let go but stayed close, baring his teeth and snarling at the man on the floor.

"Please," the woman begged, stepping up onto the first step. She was frail and pale, and her arm was crudely amputated at the elbow. It was wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage. She held her good arm over the swell in her stomach. She looked to be about eight months pregnant. She cried out in pain and doubled over.

"This is my home," Carol bit out, voice unwavering. "You need to leave."

"Look, lady. My wife's lost a lot of blood. We've been on the road for days. We came from Nebraska. We just need a place to rest."

"Was she bit?" Carol asked, taking another step down, as the man helped his wife off the steps and pulled her into the corner by the door.

"We cut above the bite."

"How long?"

"What?" he asked, narrowing his dark eyes at her.

"When was she bit."

"It's been…six hours. Maybe seven," the woman murmured softly. "Please. We'll sleep in the barn. Just…please, let us…oh!" She doubled over in pain, and the man caught her around the middle. Carol lowered the gun just a little.

"Dog, lay down," she commanded. Dog stopped growling and licked his snout before moving to the living room. Carol turned her attention back to the couple. "How long have you been having those pains?" Carol asked, taking one more step down.

"I don't…I'm not sure," she panted.

"Since we took her arm," the man remembered.

"Your wife's in labor." She looked up toward the stairs, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she should make them leave. But this woman was in pain and in desperate need of care, and the man looked absolutely helpless as he held his wife up to keep her standing. And in that moment, she reminded herself of the conversations she'd had with Daryl about needing people, about making a community. It couldn't just be them forever. She didn't know these people, but she didn't know many people in this world. But right now, in this moment, these people needed her help.

"Please," he begged, his lip quivering as his wife doubled over in pain again. "Please help my wife. Just…don't send us back out there. Not tonight. Please." Carol took a deep breath and lowered her gun. She tucked it into the back of her pants and took a step back.

"Follow me. I have a room in the back." She nodded for him to follow. The man kept his arm around his wife and held her up as they walked through the living room and down a small hallway to a little bedroom behind the dining room. There were boxes piled in the corner, and the room hadn't been used much, but it was one they'd been clearing out a little bit at a time over the last few months.

Carol pulled back the quilt on the bed, and the man helped his wife sit down on the mattress.

"Thank you," he murmured, taking a step back and running his fingers through his dark hair.

"You can stay until she's able to travel again. After that, I can't promise anything."

"Thank you," the woman whimpered, reaching out to touch Carol's arm. "You're the first person to let us into their home since we left ours."

"Actually, you broke into mine," Carol pointed out.

"Sorry about that," the man murmured. "You can understand."

"I can understand. I also can tell you not to go upstairs for any reason at all. If you do, I'll let my dog have your leg for dinner." The man held his hands up.

"I'm not leaving her side."

"Honey, I'm cold," the woman cried out. He looked at Carol.

"There are blankets in the closet there. I have some things to take care of, but I'll be down to look in on your wife."

"Thank you, again." Carol nodded and started to leave.

"Wait," the woman called. "What's your name?"

"I'm Carol," she said softly.

"Carol," she panted, placing her hand on her belly. "Thank you for everything." She reached out then and took the man's hand. "I'm Lucy, and this is my husband Negan."

_Author's Note: So…I did a thing. I hope you'll let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!_


	20. Just a Kid

Chapter 20: Just a Kid

"They stayed here?" Daryl asked, eyeing the fire-blackened walls of the prison. The chain link fences were down, and hundreds of walkers roamed through the tall grass and weeds and through what looked like the start of what was meant to be a sustainable garden. A few walkers had gotten caught up in the razor wire, effectively mangling their rotting flesh and leaving them crawling through the dirt.

"For a while, looks like," Merle considered. "When The Governor had us roll up on 'em, they had livestock, some crops." Merle winced in the passenger's seat. Daryl looked at him. "Been sittin' too long."

"Need somethin'?" Daryl kept the bottle of pain pills in his pocket, but so far that day, Merle hadn't requested one.

"Nah. Just wanna get outta here. Why we still here, anyway? If any of your people got left behind, they're dead now." Daryl knew his brother was right, and he wanted to get back to Carol and Lydia desperately. The longer he was away from them, the more he regretted going. Still, he just didn't feel right about not looking for the rest of the group. Maybe what Merle had said was true. Maybe Rick wouldn't have done the same for him. Maybe he really hadn't looked at all. But that wasn't who Daryl was.

Merle opened the truck door and leaned over, spitting on the pavement. He got out, and Daryl looked around for any sign of a walker.

"Where you going?"

"Gotta piss." He stepped off to the side of the road, and Daryl shook his head before looking back to the prison. But, now that it was on his mind, he realized he had to go. So, he stepped out of the truck and walked over to the other side of the road. As he stood there, he kept his attention fixed on his surroundings, and then something sticking out of a pile of leaves caught his attention.

He finished his business and zipped his pants back up, and then he stepped into the ditch.

"The hell you doin'?" Merle asked, sliding back into the truck. Daryl said nothing. He crouched down and picked up the item in the leaves, and as he lifted it and the leaves fell away, his stomach dropped. It was Rick's hat, the one he'd given to Carl back at the farm. It was damp and dirty from the leaves, and there was a small, dried spatter of blood on the underside of the brim.

Daryl stood then, looking back at the truck, and Merle narrowed his eyes at him. Again, Daryl said nothing. He came out of the ditch and tossed the hat onto the dash of the truck, and just as he was about to slide into his seat, a growl from somewhere in the trees caught his ear. He turned then, just in time to see a walker stumble out, not too far from where he'd found the hat. It's torn, bloodied clothing was familiar, but Daryl couldn't place it. It wasn't until he saw the brown boots and the blonde ponytail with dried blood streaked through it that he realized who it was.

He stood there, watching her come toward him, eyes pale and lifeless but focused on him, unflinching. She reached out toward him with one hand, the other arm hanging by tendons limply at her side.

"The hell you doin', boy?" Merle got out of the truck, just as Daryl grabbed his crossbow and aimed it at the walker's head. "You know her?"

"She was just a kid," he choked out. She was just sixteen. Just four years older than Sophia. And she'd died, maybe out there in the woods, and nobody had been there to end it for her.

"This one of Rick's people?"

"Yeah," Daryl murmured. "Name was Beth. She was…" The walker stepped closer, and Merle stepped forward, pushing the sharp blade on his prosthetic up through the bottom of her jaw until it came out of the top of her head. Her legs buckled under her, and when Merle pulled his arm down and back, she fell to the ground, still.

"Just a kid. I know." He wiped the blood from the blade with a rag from his pocket and looked at his brother, who stared down at the girl. "Let's get the hell outta here."

...

Much like Merle's first night at the house, Carol made sure that Dog slept upstairs in the hall near Lydia's bedroom door. When she returned downstairs, Negan was putting a cool cloth on his wife's forehead, and he was checking the bandage on her arm. Carol winced when he pulled back the bloodied rag to reveal the crudely cut and sewn stump.

"Did you put anything on it?" she asked, stepping into the room with the first aid kit and some rags she'd made out of old t-shirts.

"Didn't have much."

"It looks infected," she said softly. "Here." She handed him the first aid kit. There was a small bottle of peroxide, and he quickly opened the cap and poured some over the wound. Lucy groaned in pain and looked away, not wanting to see the horrific wound. It bubbled, and Negan grimaced as he wrapped the stump with fresh bandages. When Lucy went limp, he gently touched her face, turning it toward him. She'd passed out.

"She wanted this. She wanted this."

"What?" Carol asked softly, as she sat down on the edge of Lucy's bed and took her hand. She placed her fingers against Lucy's wrist to check her pulse.

"She wanted this so bad. This baby. I never thought much about having a kid 'til I married her."

"I'm sorry," Carol said softly. Negan flinched.

"Don't say sorry. Don't say sorry like you think she's dying. She's not. She'll be ok. She has to be. We're…we're having a kid. Shit. Don't come in here if you're gonna talk like that." He caught himself, and he hung his head. "Sorry. You're letting us stay. I don't know what I'm…it's been a long day."

"How far along is she?" Carol asked, changing the subject.

"Seven…no. Eight months, I think. It's early right? Too early."

"It's a little early. The shock of the bite probably started labor."

"It might stop, right? It could?"

"Has she…has her water broken?"

"What? Uh…yeah. In the car. It was…hours ago."

"It won't stop. The baby's coming."

"It's gonna die, isn't it?" He held his head in his hands. "She got bit. It's gonna kill the baby, right?"

"I don't know. I've never seen a pregnant woman with a bite before. How…how long after the bite did you take the arm?"

"Right…right after? Less than a minute. She begged me to. I didn't want…" He looked away. "I did what I had to do."

"You might have saved her life."

"Might," Negan huffed. Carol reached out and placed her hand on Lucy's belly. "We were traveling with some people at the start of this shit. One guy? He, uh, he got bit on the hand. We didn't know what the hell we were doing. Took us an hour to realize we could try cutting his hand off. He lived. Next guy? He got bit on the leg. We hacked it off as soon as we put down the skinbag that bit him. He died three hours later. Another guy we couldn't get to for nearly two hours. Took his whole arm. He died. Buddy of mine was bit just above the wrist. Took his arm just below the elbow right away. He lived. Guess that shit doesn't matter now. They're all dead now."

"I'm so sorry," Carol murmured. "I wish I knew how it worked. I think everyone's different." She cleared her throat. "You know, before we left Atlanta, we took shelter at the CDC. There was one scientist left there, and he told us all he knew about it. It could take minutes for some. Hours for others. Nobody knows why."

"She's still alive. No fever yet. That's a good sign, I think." He felt the baby move beneath his hand, and he gently rubbed that spot on Lucy's belly. Carol felt a lump in her throat as she remembered lying in the RV the night Sophia walked out of the barn. She'd lay there in bed with her hand on her stomach, remembering the joy she'd felt when she felt Sophia kick for the first time. The memory brought tears to her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away before the man could see.

"My daughter was almost a month early. She was healthy, and she was strong. There's no reason to think…"

"Don't." He looked up at her. "I don't need hope. I need my wife."

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading guys! Please let me know what you think! Your feedback is so very much appreciated and inspiring!_


	21. Touch and Go

Chapter 21: Touch and Go

Carol hadn't slept. Neither had Negan. Lucy had been in and out of consciousness all night, and sometime around daybreak, she spiked a fever. Carol went upstairs to make sure Lydia was fed and changed and okay before returning to the man and his laboring wife.

She was growing weaker, and Carol wasn't sure if the fever had to do with the bite or just from the infection from the amputation. Either way, Lucy was in extremely bad shape, and Carol wasn't sure she'd be strong enough to deliver when the time came. Still, Negan sat by her side and held her hand, and Carol hoped Daryl would come home soon.

When Carol let Dog outside, she kept the baby monitor in hand. When Negan stepped into the kitchen where she was making coffee and oatmeal for breakfast, he noticed it.

"You have a kid."

"I have a kid," she said quietly, not turning to face him.

"That's why you don't want us upstairs."

"I don't know you. I took a risk letting you in my home, but you and your wife needed my help. How's your ankle, by the way?"

"Fine," he said quietly. "Didn't bleed much. You've got a hell of a guard dog." He looked around. "Just you here?"

"Any answer wouldn't be a smart answer," Carol pointed out, serving oatmeal into two bowls. She poured two mugs of coffee, and motioned for him to partake. He stepped up beside her, grabbed the bowl and the coffee mug and looked out the window by the kitchen sink.

"She's not getting better." Carol said nothing. "She's gonna die. The baby's gonna die."

"You don't know that," Carol said quietly. "Let her rest now. But if she doesn't deliver soon…"

"What?"

"You might have to make a decision."

"What kind of decision?" Negan stirred his spoon around his bowl but didn't take a bite. He placed the bowl on the counter. "My kid or my wife?"

"Maybe."

"There's no choice. I can make another kid. I can't make another Lucy." The second the words were out of his mouth, he looked like he'd been sucker punched in the gut. "Jesus. I didn't…"

"It's ok," Carol said quietly, blowing over her steaming coffee before taking a sip.

"It's not." He turned to walk away, leaving his breakfast on the counter. He stopped, and Carol turned to look at him. "What kind of choice?"

"She's getting weaker," Carol said softly, her eyes brimming with tears. She blinked them back. "We may have to cut the baby out."

"You ever done that?"

"No." She shook her head. "She would bleed out. She wouldn't…" She cleared her throat, and Negan took a step closer to her. He was tall, a good foot taller than her, and he was thin but muscled, and he looked like he could take down anybody if he had to. She fought the urge to take a step back.

"You could save the baby?"

"I don't…I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm not a doctor. I'm not a nurse. I'm not…" She wiped her hands on the kitchen towel by the stove. "But if the baby doesn't come soon…" Negan held a hand up and then turned and silently walked back to the room where his wife was resting.

Carol sat down at the table and ate a few bites of her own breakfast, but she found that her appetite quickly left her. So, she swallowed down a couple gulps of coffee and then went to the door to let Dog back in. She had just got Dog inside the house when a yell from the back of the house had her running to the guest room.

Lucy was pale and sweating, but she was awake. She was straining, and when Carol moved to her bedside, Negan was holding Lucy's hand again.

"Something's not right," the woman panted. Negan's gaze flashed up to Carol, and she saw the fear there.

"Okay," Carol offered softly. "It's ok. I'm going to…to check you, ok?"

"Save him," Lucy whispered. "Please. Whatever happens to me, save my boy."

"Luce, you gotta rest," Negan insisted, kissing her hand. "You're gonna be alright. Our little girl is gonna need her mama." A sad smile spread across his face, and Lucy's eyes fluttered close for a moment, a smile spreading across her face when he leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

"We both know I'm not," she bit out. "He's going to need his father."

"He," Negan choked out, kissing her forehead once again. "Alright." When he pulled back, he watched her smile begin to fade, and then her eyes screwed shut and her head fell back against the pillow. She let out a sharp cry just then, and Carol lifted up the bed sheets. She could see the baby's head was crowning. She'd never attended any live births aside from her daughter's, and from what she could remember from the birthing video she'd watched in her Lamaze class, the baby's head wasn't supposed to be blue like that.

The look on her face must have given her away, and Lucy began grasping at the sheets with her one hand, pulling them back as if she could see for herself.

"What is it?" she asked, choking back tears.

"What's happening?" Negan asked, standing up and moving toward Carol. She pulled the sheet back down, and she held her hand up.

"You might want to step outside."

"I'm not leaving her! What's wrong?" Carol looked up at him, and she swallowed back the anxiety that bubbled up in her chest. She turned her attention from him to Lucy then, and she reached out to take Lucy's hand.

"I need you to listen carefully. The baby's head's blue. But the cord could be wrapped around the neck." She felt her brain screening, and what little knowledge she had of childbirth aside from her own experience was from watching countless television shows, inaccuracies and all. But, she figured that any attempt to help was better than nothing. So, she grabbed the bottle of hand sanitizer and cleaned her hands.

Lucy bore down and pushed hard again, making a little progress, though the head was still blue. Carol then reached down and inserted her finger past the baby's head, feeling against its neck until she felt something that didn't quite feel right. It wasn't terribly tight, and she was able to make some slack as Lucy pushed against her hand.

"Oh God, it's coming!" Lucy screamed, reaching to grip the side of the bed. She strained, falling back against the mattress, her energy wearing thin. Carol looked to Negan, and she nodded to Lucy.

"Okay, she's getting weaker," Carol instructed. "I need you to get behind her. I need you to help her sit up, and I need you to let her hold your hand. She's going to need to bare down." Negan scrambled then, pulling his wife up enough to slip behind her on the bed. He took her hand in his and let her squeeze it, and her head fell back against his shoulder. "Lucy. Lucy!" The woman's eyes fluttered open. "I need you to stay with me. Ok? Stay with me. He's coming. Your boy's coming. You're gonna see him in just a minute, but I need you to stay with me, ok?"

"Help her," Negan choked out, as Lydia went limp in his arms. And then she remembered something. She remembered the delivery nurse helping her push when she grew exhausted. She remembered her pushing while the nurse pushed down on her belly.

"I need you to help her," Carol instructed. "Hey. Look at me." Negan's eyes were wild, terrified, and Carol kept her eyes on his. "Listen to me. I need you to put your hands on her belly and push. Push from the top, alright? She needs you. Can you do that for her?"

"I…"

"Hey. Negan! You need to help her. She needs you. Your baby needs you." Negan swallowed hard, but he nodded, burying his face in Lucy's hair for a moment, whispering something before he began to push on her belly. "Good. Good. Lucy. Hey! Lucy, can you open your eyes for me?"

"The baby," she panted.

"Lucy!" Carol called. "Open your eyes, Lucy. You're about to see your boy. Can you do that for me?" Lucy's eyes fluttered open, and when the pain ripped through her again, she cried out. "Good. Good. Stay with me! I need you to push!" Lucy cried out then, baring down as Negan pushed against her belly. She began to bleed, but Carol kept calm, keeping her hands steady as the head cleared the birth canal. She quickly unwrapped the rest of the cord. "Okay. Okay! Good girl. Good job. The head's out. I need one more big push, ok?" Lucy nodded weakly, and with Negan's help, she bore down and pushed hard. In a moment, the shoulders were free, and then Carol was able to help pull him into the world.

Lucy fell back in his arms, as Carol quickly turned the baby over, patting his back as the fluid left his lungs. He let out a mewling cry, and Carol quickly severed the cord with the first aid scissors.

"Is he ok?" Lucy whimpered. "He's a boy. I know he is."

"He's a boy," Carol choked out, unable to hide the emotion in her voice. "He's beautiful." She wrapped the baby in a towel, and she handed him over to his mother. Lucy could barely hold him with her arm, but Negan wrapped his arms around her and helped her hold him. The woman was weak and still so pale, and recovery seemed unlikely. Carol knew Lucy's life was out her hands.

There was half dozen corpses strewn along the pavement outside the storefront. Daryl and Merle had put them down and let them inside to see what they could find to take back home. Somehow, the idea of coming back with something, even if it wasn't someone seemed better than coming home empty handed.

Daryl grabbed several cans of formula, even though Lydia was eating more of the jarred baby food. He figured it wouldn't hurt to have something for backup just in case.

"She actually eats this shit?" Merle asked, holding up a jar of strained peas.

"She loves 'em. Loves the bananas too. Got any of that?"

"Yeah. A few jars."

"Get 'em. Grab everything so long as it ain't expired." Merle grunted and carefully placed the glass jars in a box. He picked up a taller jar and nearly gagged. "Turkey, carrots and green beans? Looks like somebody yakked and scooped it in a jar."

"Just put it in the box," Daryl sighed. Merle continued making his way down the line. Daryl grabbed three big boxes of diapers in Lydia's size and tossed them in a shopping cart. A couple aisles over was the liquor aisle, and Merle made a beeline for the hard stuff. "Merle."

"What? You shot me in the fuckin' leg, and you're gonna deny me a drink?"

"One bottle," Daryl insisted. "I got a kid to look after, and I ain't gonna have your ass stumblin' around drunk all the time."

"One bottle," Merle snorted. "Better make it a good one." He grabbed the largest, most expensive bottle of whiskey he could find and put it in the cart. Next, they made their way to the shampoo and soap aisle, and Daryl grabbed a few of Carol's favorites and then his own. Merle threw some things in the cart, and then he wiped out an entire row on the condom shelf. Daryl eyed him.

"You got high hopes for you and your hand?"

"Never know who might come along," Merle grinned. "Be prepared. My motto."

"You ain't no boy scout," Daryl chuckled.

"You getting' any for you? They sell extra small? Maybe you need these." He held up a box of finger cots.

"Fuck you, bro," Daryl laughed. Merle smirked and grabbed a couple bottles of ibuprofen off the shelf.

"First time I heard ya really laugh in all this shit," Merle pointed out. He saw the grin fade from Daryl's face. "It's alright. Gotta have a sense of humor."

"Let's just get this shit and get outta here. I wanna get home."

"Home? You sure?"

"Ain't you the one that didn't see the point in us goin' all the way out here?"

"Sure, but I'm surprised to hear ya givin' up so easy."

"Ain't givin' up. They ain't here. They ain't at Woodbury. They ain't at the prison. And if they are, they're like Beth. They're gone." He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment. "Carol? She ain't gone. Lydia ain't gone. All I wanna do is get home to 'em. Just wanna move on."

"Alright. What're we doin' standin' here wastin' time? Let's get you home to your woman." Merle tossed the box of finger cots at him. "Here. Ya might need these."

"Asshole," Daryl grunted, and Merle smiled wide.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think. Feedback is appreciated and inspiring.


	22. The Boy

Chapter 22: The Boy

About an hour after the birth, Lucy had passed out from exhaustion. Negan looked beside himself with worry as he sat in the chair by the bed with his sleeping son wrapped in a blanket. He still needed bathing, but Negan just hadn't stopped looking at the boy.

Carol had thrown some of the soiled linens in a tub to scrub later, and she'd gone to tend to Lydia before returning to the small room downstairs. He was still sitting in that spot, one hand holding his wife's, the other arm cradling his newborn son.

"He'll need to eat," Carol said quietly. "And he'll need a bath to wash off the…the blood." Negan looked up at her as if he hadn't expected the visitor, as if it had been him and Lucy alone at the house all that time. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"She was reading all the baby books." He huffed out a laugh. "I didn't see the point. I felt sick when she told me she was pregnant. What the hell kind of life can a kid have in this horror show? But she just looked at me and smiled and told me to shut up. 'We'll make it work,' she said. 'We can do anything.' Jesus. She was so excited. And I looked at her like she'd lost her fucking mind, because let's be honest, this isn't the kind of world you paint nurseries in. It's not the kind of world where you look forward to hearing your kid's first cry, because that cry could bring a goddamn reanimated corpse right down on your jugular."

"Why don't I take him?" Carol took a step toward him, and he sat back in his seat, letting go of Lucy's hand.

"No. I've got him."

"He needs cleaned up. And a bottle. Lucy's too weak to nurse, and I can spare a little formula." Negan looked up at her. "Until Lucy's strong enough to breastfeed." She felt the lie slip off her tongue. She was sure Lucy wouldn't ever be strong enough for that. Her color was bad, and was still warm with fever. "I might even have some clothes small enough to fit him. You can rest here with Lucy, and I'll…"

"I can take care of my family," he insisted.

"How do you expect to do that if you don't know what the hell you're doing? You said it yourself. Lucy read the baby books. You didn't, did you?" He looked away. "I have a baby. And I had a little girl. I can help you."

"Why?"

"If I was Lucy, I'd want someone to do the same for my baby." She took another step closer. "Please." He looked up at her again, and she held her breath. Finally, he stood, and he awkwardly adjusted the baby in his arms. This wasn't a man who'd held a lot of babies, and when Carol gently took the baby in her arms, he looked relieved.

"He's small. Too small?"

"He's a little small, but he's a little early." She nodded her head, and she smiled down at the little one, gently touching the tip of his nose with her finger.

"He looks like Lucy," Negan choked out. "I, uh, I don't know what to…"

"It's ok. Just sit with her. I'll give him a bath and bring him back to you. You're going to want to be the one who gives him his first bottle. Trust me. You'll want to remember that."

Carol took the baby from the room and upstairs. Once in the bathroom, she grabbed Lydia's baby bath and gently washed the newborn in it. He was tiny, and he fussed as she washed him, but she spoke to him in soft, soothing words. She wrapped him in a towel and brought him to her room when he was clean, and she lay him down on the bed and opened up the closet to find some things that she'd stored away but didn't really need anymore, like Lydia's old diapers and clothes. The diapers were a size too big, but she made them work, and then she slipped a little white sleeper over him. They were a little long in the legs, but they fit, otherwise. She finished up by swaddling him and taking him back downstairs.

She carefully made a bottle using some of Lydia's formula and hoped it would work for him. She remembered Sophia needing a special kind of formula at first, but Carol figured this had to be better than nothing.

When she returned to the little bedroom, Negan was holding Lucy's hand again, and she was shivering in her sleep. Carol swallowed the lump in her throat, and she gently tapped on the door. Negan looked up, and she smiled down at the baby.

"He's clean and ready to eat." The baby blinked sleepily when Carol leaned down to place him in his father's arms. "Just support his head." She handed him the bottle next, and he struggled to get the little one to eat. "Sometimes you have to put a little milk on his lips. Like this." She took the bottle and gently rubbed the rubber nipple over the baby's bottom lip. A little formula coated his lip and tongue, and he grunted. She popped the nipple into his mouth then, and he began to suckle. She let go of the bottle and let Negan take over. "Look at that."

"He supposed to make that sound?" he asked. "He ain't gonna choke?"

"He's fine. Just support his head."

"I never kept a plant alive. Killed the first goldfish I had after two days. Forgot to feed it."

"Well, trust me, he won't let you forget to feed him." She folded her arms across her chest. "We found Lydia out in the cold. Her mother was just…gone. I guess her father couldn't cope. He, uh, he must have held out as long as he could. It was cold. She would've died if it wasn't for the dog. I guess he belonged to her family. He was barking and making a bunch of noise, and we found her. What could we do? She was helpless. She needed us. We took her home, and she's been ours ever since. She needed us, and I think maybe we needed her, too."

"Us."

"Me and my husband."

"Sorry," he said quietly.

"What?"

"He get bit? That why he isn't here?"

"He's not dead. He's looking for the rest of our group. We got split up at the end of the summer last year. It was just us, and then we found Dog and Lydia." She took a shaking breath, feeling the uncertainties and worries coming back now that the house was quiet again. "He'll be back soon." She knew that was probably a lie. It would be at least a week, and she knew it. She suddenly felt anxious again. "I'll leave you alone with your family." She turned and started to shut the door behind her, but Negan looked up.

"Hey. Thank you. If you hadn't let us stay, I might've lost both of them." Carol felt the lump rise in her throat again, and she just nodded.

"I'm going to go lay down. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks." Negan looked away then, and Carol left him to tend to his son.

When she got back upstairs, Dog looked up at her excitedly, and she gave his head a pat. She shut herself up in her room and locked the door before pulling Lydia into her arms and snuggling her as she slept. She was amazed at how heavy Lydia felt after holding that baby. It was hard to believe how much she'd grown in the last few months. She was getting so big and was just a delight. Those big, dark eyes and that messy dark hair just filled Carol's heart with joy every time she looked in her little girl's face.

Carol put the baby back down in the crib and retreated to her own bed. She sighed, heavy and deep when she crawled under the covers and sunk down against her pillow. It felt so good to lie down. Her bones ached. Her body was weary. She felt the tension just melt away.

But the longer she lay there, the more her mind began to wander back to Daryl. What would he think when he arrived to find these strangers here? What if Lucy didn't make it? What if she died and came back and hurt the baby or Negan? A hundred different scenarios kept her awake, and when she did manage to drift off, she was restless. She tossed and turned and managed to sleep a dreamless sleep for about an hour before Lydia began to fuss.

She lay there, staring at the ceiling until Lydia soothed herself back to sleep. With a heavy sigh, she rolled onto her stomach, buried her head in the pillow and wished she could shake the worry. But she couldn't, and she knew she wouldn't until her husband was home safe with her and their baby girl.

_Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback! It means so much to me! I hope you will continue to read and let me know what you think!_


	23. Recovery

Chapter 23: Recovery

Daryl packed one last box into the back of the truck, effectively leaving zero space for anything else. Even if they hadn't found people on their trip, they'd gotten enough supplies to last almost until winter.

Daryl and Merle had come upon a once popular big box store, and while most of the food aisles had been wiped out, they'd come upon a goldmine in seed packets and other things that would make creating a sustainable garden just a bit easier.

"Anything else?" Merle asked, as he and Daryl stepped back into the store and looked around the place.

"Just one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Not sure yet," Daryl admitted with a little laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"The hell you goin' on about then?"

"I promised Lydia I'd bring her back somethin' special."

"Oh, the kid that can't hold a conversation? Ya made her a promise? Think it's alright if you break it. She won't be none the wiser."

"You wouldn't understand, bro." Daryl thumped his brother on the back and started off toward the toy section.

"'Cause I was smart enough not to spread my seed around? Just be glad Lydia ain't got Dixon DNA. Dixons ain't never amounted to nothin'."

"Yeah? That's the shit our daddy used to put in our heads. We wasn't gonna be nothin'. We wasn't gonna do nothin'. We was gonna be just like him. And I think that's what he wanted." Daryl shook his head. "Not me."

"Not you," Merle grinned. "Got yourself a real fine woman and a kid that ain't never gonna know the life we knew. Just don't expect old Uncle Merle to be changin' no diapers on account of only havin' one hand."

"Always an excuse," Daryl snorted. Merle laughed then, and he stopped on one of the almost fully stocked aisles. "Guess there ain't much call for toys these days, huh? This world? Seein' a kid is a rare thing. Like seein' a shootin' star or some shit."

"Saw two just last night."

"Kids?"

"Shootin' stars." He stepped over a few broken toys on the floor. "As long as there's people, there's gonna be babies. Gonna be new people. The world might be dead, but it's comin' back. And I don't mean like them…things out there."

"When did my baby brother turn into a dreamer?" Merle asked with a snort, picking up a teddy bear covered in dried blood. Daryl said nothing. He reached up onto a high shelf and pulled down a dusty box. Inside was a baby doll. It wasn't one of those creepy dolls with painted on eyes that always gave him the creeps. It wasn't a rag doll. It was a baby doll that looked real. It had perfectly sculpted ears and a real looking nose, and he figured it was probably made of rubber or hard plastic. But it looked like a real kid. He remembered the girls at school going crazy over dolls like that. "You find yourself a present?"

"I think Lydia'd like it." Merle came over and brushed some of the dust off the box.

"Ain't she a little young for somethin' like that?"

"When she's older, dumbass," Daryl muttered.

"What's a kid in this world gonna do with a damn baby doll? When she's old enough to tie her shoes, she's gonna need to learn how to shoot a walker through the brain, not play house with a plastic brat." Daryl knew Merle was right, but he still wanted his little girl to have things she'd like, even if this world would force her to grow up faster than she should have to. He thrust the doll into Merle's chest, and Merle scoffed but held onto the box.

Just as he was rounding the corner, he found one sad looking teddy bear, missing half of its stuffing and one beady eye. It was pathetic looking, but he remembered having one quite like it when he was just a little thing. He picked it up off the shelf and tucked what stuffing he could back into it. It could be sewn. The other eye was nowhere to be found. But it was the only one that wasn't covered in muck and blood.

He brushed the dust off of its nose, and Merle shook his head.

"That girl. She's got you wrapped around her finger, don't she?" he asked. "Never thought I'd see the day a Dixon man would be picking up dollies and teddy bears." He picked up another toy off the shelf. A cap gun. "This right here. This is what you oughta give her. Let her practice early." Daryl said nothing and started off for the door. Merle tucked the toy gun into his pocket and shrugged. "Uncle Merle can't go home empty handed. 'Sides. This is better than a damn baby doll."

...

Lucy had made it through the night. She was still weak from loss of blood, but the fever had broken, and she'd felt well enough to have some breakfast. Negan, Carol was certain, hadn't slept at all. So after breakfast was finished, she encouraged Negan to go get some rest. He didn't want to stray far from his wife, but he'd settled for camping out on the couch in the living room. Carol had brought him a blanket and a pillow, and she'd returned to Lucy to check her bandages.

"I'm gonna die, aren't I?" Lucy asked quietly, as Carol focused on gently wrapping the stump of her arm.

"Your fever broke. That's a good sign. You were bit days ago. If you were going to turn, I think you would've by now." Lucy nodded then. She took a deep, shaking breath and blinked back tears.

"I don't know how to thank you, Carol."

"No thanks needed. There aren't a lot of people left. We should take care of the ones who need our help, right?"

"If we stop caring for people, we'll become the monsters."

"What?" Carol asked.

"Oh, it's something I said to my husband. When everything first started, before I was even pregnant, we had pretty much sealed ourselves up inside of our house. There was only one way in and one way out. Our house was the oldest, biggest house in town. Negan bought it for me as a wedding present." She smiled, at the memory, but her smile quickly faded. "It was one of those old homes that everyone expected to look nice at Christmas with lights in the windows a big Christmas tree. Everybody knew that house. Everybody. So when everything happened, it was the first place people thought to come. It was big, had plenty of place to spread out. And they kept trying to get in. They were desperate. And Negan didn't sleep for what seemed like a week. He was so worried about someone getting in. A person or one of those…things."

"We call them walkers."

"Walkers," Lucy murmured. "Yeah. That sounds right." She shook her head. "One of Negan's buddies from work came, and he and Negan just about killed each other. He pulled a gun on him, insisted he had a right to use the space since we had so much of it. It was just the way he came at us. He was half crazy. Just lost his wife. And the next thing I knew, the gun went off, and Negan…" She sniffled. "He killed his friend. That friend would have killed him. My husband? He's a big man. Tall. Strong. He played college football. But he was gentle. And there he was, standing over his friend with a gun falling from his hands. And he was shocked. Didn't speak for hours. And I held his face in my hands, and I made him look at me. I told him it was ok. I told him that if he hadn't, that man would've hurt us. But I also told him people were going to keep coming. People that didn't want to hurt us. People that just needed help. And I told him that if we didn't help people, if we didn't let them in, there wasn't any point in going on. We might as well join the dead." She took a shaking breath. "So we started letting people in. Just one or two at first. But before we knew it, we had a whole house full. And it was good for a while. Months, really. And then someone died in the night, and the virus spread like wildfire."

"That must have been terrifying," Carol murmured. "I can't imagine."

"He woke me up in the dead of night. He blocked us in our room. They were clawing at the bedroom door. We escaped out the window and jumped down onto the roof of the porch. I still don't know how we made it out alive, but we did it. We made it all the way to Atlanta, and then…" She looked down at what was left of her arm. "He's a good man. He is. But if I die, I don't…" She choked back a cry. "He's been so strong, and we've kept each other going. I'm afraid what might happen to him if…"

"Don't think like that," Carol urged. "Hey. Your fever's broken. You're still here. You have a son you still have to name."

"Oh," Lucy laughed. "I haven't even thought about it."

"Not once?"

"No," she sniffled. "I didn't want to think about it. I think it's because a part of me didn't expect to survive the birth. I honestly didn't think I'd get to see him. And look at him. He's perfect." Carol glanced over at the sleeping baby in the little bed they'd made for him. Lucy let out a shuddering sob. "I'm not going to get to see him grow up." Carol sniffled and looked at the baby monitor she'd brought down with her. It was sitting next to Lucy's bed.

"I lost my daughter. Several months ago."

"God, I'm so sorry," Lucy whispered.

"We got caught in a herd. She got scared and ran. I didn't know how to help her. I felt frozen. Paralyzed. I felt like my heart had stopped, and I was watching everything in slow motion." She wiped at a stray tear. "Everyone in our group helped look for her in one way or another. But the longer she was out there, the more time passed, everyone started giving up hope. Even me. Except one person." She smiled sadly. "His own brother had gone missing not long before that. He was so sure she was going to be ok. He went out there looking for her, when everyone else told him it wasn't worth the time or the effort. She was gone. But he kept looking. He kept giving me hope. And one day, she was there, but it wasn't her. She was gone. My Sophia."

"Sophia," Lucy whispered. "Poor thing." Carol sniffled and nodded, wiping at her own tears.

"She'd been gone, probably since the day she ran into the woods. I wanted to die right there along with her. He blamed himself. I blamed myself. I was angry, and he was pushing people away. Including me, because he was so mad at himself for trying to give me hope. But here's the thing. Sophia walking out of that barn and not being my little girl anymore? It could have killed me. Maybe it would have. But I kept pushing on. And I think part of that is because I knew that even if _she_ didn't make it, I could keep going for her. To remember her. And I am thankful every day for that man, that stranger that nearly got himself killed looking for my little girl and giving me hope that something good could still happen."

"What happened to him? The man?" Lucy asked, sitting up in bed a little. Carol smiled.

"I married him." Lucy's eyes widened, and Carol laughed. "He'll be home any day. He's looking for the rest of our group. It's a long story. We got separated."

"I hope I get to meet him," Lucy smiled. "What's his name? Maybe I could name my boy after your brave husband. If he was a girl, I'd call him Carol."

"That's sweet, but I think Daryl would prefer you to give him his own name."

"Daryl," Lucy smiled. "I like that. I understand. Negan says the same. He says no son of his is going to be a Junior. He's gonna be his own man, he says." Carol smiled and picked up the little one, handing him over to his mother. She cradled him in her good arm and kissed his head.

"You'll be alright for a few minutes if I check on my baby?" Carol asked. Lucy smiled.

"Hmm. Yeah. We'll be alright. Right?" The baby yawned and sucked his fingers, and Carol smiled.

"Yeah. I think you're gonna be just fine."

_Author's Note: Sorry it's been a few days since the last update. I've been working like crazy and then so exhausted on Christmas. But here's the next chapter. Please let me know what you think. And yes, Daryl is coming home SOON. Promise. Feedback is always appreciated!_


	24. Homecoming

Chapter 24: Homecoming

Merle jerked awake in the passenger's seat when Daryl swerved to miss something in the road.

"Jesus Christ! You got your head in the clouds over there?" Merle asked, turning in his seat to see the burnt shell of a car in the middle of the road. "You didn't see that piece of shit from a mile away?"

"Sorry," Daryl muttered.

"Slow the fuck down," Merle barked, glancing at the speedometer to see Daryl was going well over eighty. Daryl let up off the gas. He hadn't even been paying attention. His mind was back on the farm, back with Carol and Lydia and how very close he was to getting home to her. The closer they got, the more anxious he became.

In the past two days, they'd been going in circles. A large herd had forced them fifteen miles in the wrong direction, and in course of re-directing themselves, they'd come upon no less than six impassible roads. They'd holed up in an old liquor store in some backwoods little town for a couple of days. While it had been Heaven for Merle, Daryl had wished he was anywhere but there.

"You're in that much of a hurry to get back to her, you're gonna get us both killed. They say a case of blue balls never killed a man, but I'm startin' to wonder if this might be one for the books."

"Shut the hell up, 'fore I leave _you_ in the middle of the road." He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "It's been a week."

"Yeah? And ya told her it might take longer."

"Never shoulda left her."

"No. Ya shoulda kept your ass back on that farm. But here we are." Merle rubbed his hands over his face, yawning and stretching as he straightened up in his seat. "How close?"

"Not far," Daryl muttered. "Made good time 'til ya distracted me."

"You mean 'til I kept you from runnin' head first into a tree? Yeah, you're welcome, dickhead." Daryl shook his head and muttered something under his breath. "You weren't never this big a pain in the ass before. Hell, when it was just you and me on the road, you barely said two words. When I wanted to ransack that camp, you didn't do a damn thing to stop me. But the second we got there, you pussied out. We coulda took 'em. 'Course, you'd probably be dead, and so would that pretty wife of yours. Guess it worked out for the best, right?"

"We were talkin' 'bout buildin' another house on the property," Daryl said quietly. "Out near the old barn. Thinkin' maybe further out now. Which room do you want?" Merle snorted at his brother's suggestion, and he shook his head.

"Who says I'd wanna stay in the house with you and the Mrs. anyway?"

"Why? Jealous?" Daryl asked with a laugh.

"Jealous? Pfft. I sleep naked. Just worried she'll accidentally get a peek at what I'm swingin' and realize she picked the wrong brother."

"You're a dick," Daryl laughed. Merle grinned then, and he leaned his head back.

"M'happy for ya, baby brother. Really am." Daryl made a turn down a road that looked more familiar to Merle, and he squinted off toward the horizon. "Gettin' close to supper time. Wish she knew to expect us. Could go for a home cooked meal. Jerky and canned fruit only goes so far. Christ, I could go for some of Grandma Dixon's biscuits and gravy."

"Just 'cause Carol can cook don't mean she's gonna cook all your meals for you. You're gonna have to learn a thing or two. First thing is, I can't cook for shit, so don't ask me." Merle laughed at his brother, and Daryl took another turn down an even more familiar road.

They rode a while in silence after that. Daryl felt his heart thud when he made one more turn onto the road that led to the farm house. A cold dread pooled in his stomach, and a sinking feeling washed over him. He'd been gone for days on end before, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened. If she was hurt or if Lydia was…no. He wouldn't let himself think about it. He couldn't.

He looked at the old sheriff's hat on the dash of his truck, remembering what this trip had been all about. Rick was gone. Dead or not, he was gone. There was no trace of him, no trail. And Daryl had a family to put first. Merle had been right, as much as he hadn't wanted to think about that either. Rick had a family to think about, but Daryl did, too, and it was time to put the past behind them and focus on what they had then and there. If they were meant to find the group again, they would. But he couldn't waste another minute of whatever time he had left looking for people that might as well be ghosts in the woods.

"Hey, slow down. You're gonna pass right by." Merle nudged his brother's shoulder, and Daryl hit the brakes, sending them both lurching forward a bit. Merle looked at him, and Daryl ducked his head a little. He turned into the drive, and Merle hopped out to get the gate. The first thing he noticed was dried blood pooled on the gravel in spots. He paused and looked up at Daryl.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothin', I think." After all, it very well could have been his own blood. He'd been in such a sorry state the night he'd come to the farm that it very likely _was_ his blood. Still, it was the first he'd noticed it. Daryl narrowed his eyes at him, but he said nothing. When Merle got back in the car, he kept his eyes trained on the driveway, while Daryl headed up around a curve.

The house came into view, and it was still standing. The cold dread eased up a little, but Daryl knew it wouldn't fully until she was in his arms. As the truck rumbled on toward the house, Daryl noticed Dog pop his head up from where he was on the porch. Dog shot off the porch like a bullet from a gun, bounding toward the drive through the tall grass. Daryl grinned then, and when he saw the front door swing open and Carol walk out, hit the gas, speeding toward the front of the house, despite the fact that he knew she hated when he pulled up right by the porch. He figured she'd forgive him this time.

The truck came to a halt, and Carol rushed down the steps with Lydia in her arms, and Daryl didn't even cut the engine before he was out of the truck and rushing up to meet her.

"I can't believe you're home," she gasped, when he pulled her close, being mindful of the baby in her arms. "Daryl, I was so worried."

"M'sorry I was gone so long."

"So long? I thought it might be another week. I'm glad you're here. I just…" She looked toward the truck. "No luck?" He looked down and shook his head, and Carol hugged him again.

"I'm glad you're home."

"Ain't leavin' again." He sighed heavily, and when he let her go, she passed Lydia over to him. "Hey sweet girl. Did ya miss me? Huh?"

"She did," Carol murmured, squeezing Daryl's arm. She looked back toward the house. "Daryl, something happened while you were gone."

"Are you ok? Lydia's…"

"We're both fine," Carol promised. "So is Dog. We…we have company." Merle leaned over to cut the engine on the truck and got out.

"You say company?" he asked, stepping around the truck. "Kind of company we talkin' here?"

"After you both left," Carol started, "a man and woman broke into the house." Daryl started for the door, but Carol grabbed his arm. "His wife was in bad shape. She'd been bitten, lost her arm. She was pregnant and in labor. The baby's healthy, but the mother, Lucy, is still really weak."

"The hell they doing breakin' into houses when…"

"Tell me you wouldn't do the same if it was me or Lydia that was hurt? They needed a place."

"Jesus," Daryl muttered, running his fingers through his hair. "You're sure you're alright?"

"Fine. I've been helping Negan with Lucy and the baby. She's still not out of the woods yet, but if she was going to turn, she would have long before now." Daryl and Merle looked at each other, before Daryl turned back to Carol.

"You trust these people?"

"I'm keeping Lydia close. Dog's been very protective. Lucy's kind, and Negan's been beside himself with worry for her. I think he still half expects to wake up and find her gone or something." She shook her head. "I couldn't send them away, Daryl."

"I'll do it," Merle volunteered, stepping up toward the door before being grabbed by Daryl. "What? You gonna let some strangers take our food and sleep under the same roof as your wife and kid?"

"Merle," Carol warned. "Stop. They have a baby."

"Yeah? And so do you. You gotta look after your own first." He started for the door again, but Carol grabbed him then.

"If people only looked after their own, nobody would have looked for my little girl. And I probably wouldn't still be here." She looked from Merle to Daryl. "We have plenty of room. And they probably aren't going to stay."

"Probably?" Daryl asked.

"Look. If she goes out there in her condition, she's going to die. They probably all will." She took Lydia back into her arms then.

"Yeah? What if they just wanna take this place for their own?" Daryl asked, eyeing his wife. "What then?"

"Then we'll deal with it when the time comes. We've talked about this before. If we're going to build this place up, we're going to need people. Please." She looked to Merle. "Just give them a chance."

"Your call, bro," Merle muttered, looking from Carol to Daryl. Daryl looked to Carol. He knew her heart was in the right place. He also knew that if she had any feeling whatsoever that having these people around was dangerous for Lydia, they would have been out of the house already. He trusted her. But he was going to reserve judgment on the newcomers until he met them. Carol and Lydia were everything to him, and he already knew he had it inside of him to do whatever it took to keep them safe. He gave her a little nod then, and he looked to Merle.

"Guess it's time to meet our guests."

_Author's Note: Yes, that's right. Two chapters in one day! Hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is always appreciated!_


	25. Tensions

Chapter 25: Tension

Daryl sat with Lydia on his knee. Merle leaned against the refrigerator. Carol sat next to Daryl. Negan and Lucy sat together across the table from Carol and Daryl. Lucy held the baby with her good arm and looked around anxiously. Negan eyed Merle who he thought had been eyeing Lucy for just a little too long for his liking.

"Where you from?" Merle asked first. Negan looked at Merle. Lucy looked at Negan. She cleared her throat to end the silence.

"Nebraska," she said softly.

"You came South? Why?" Daryl asked.

"We stayed in Nebraska as long as we could," Lucy offered. "It didn't work out." She looked to her husband, and he leaned back in his chair.

"We heard there might be a safe zone outside Chicago. Then it was Terre Haute. Then someplace near Louisville. By the time we got there, we had some thirty other people in our group. Some of them heard about a place along the train tracks out of Atlanta. Some sanctuary. Fifteen of our group went looking for it. Only one came back. Died a few hours later from blood loss. Bunch of goddamn cannibals luring people in with posters all along the tracks. You believe that shit?" Negan asked with a dry laugh. "Not only do we have these walking corpse freaks to worry about, now fucking human beings are eating other people?"

"So you kept coming South?" Daryl asked.

"Think I'd have been runnin' the other way if I heard there were a bunch of assholes out there looking to eat the meat off my bones," Merle scoffed. "But you kept goin' South? With a pregnant woman? Don't sound too smart if you ask me."

"Nothing North or West but a graveyard," Negan murmured. "Three weeks ago, there were ten of us left. Two weeks ago? Just four. Then the night Lucy got bit, that's when it came down to just the two of us. Did what I had to do. We drove for hours, 'til the car wouldn't go any further. Then we got out and walked. And that's when we found your place." Negan looked to Daryl. "Your Dog didn't like me too much. Your wife coulda let him chew my damn leg off, but she helped us. She didn't have to." Daryl looked to Carol.

"It wasn't an easy decision," Carol pointed out. "I'm still questioning my own sanity for letting in a couple of strangers." Her effort of easing some of the tension in the room with a little joke fell flat, and Lucy looked to her.

"But you didn't turn us away. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be dead. And my son? I know he would be. You saved us, Carol. We owe you…everything. It could have turned out a lot worse."

"Yeah, she's good like that."Merle spoke up. He looked to Lucy. "You were lucky. You had somebody to do it for you." He nodded toward her injured arm. "You were lucky the dead didn't sniff you out, bleeding like you must've been. Yeah, I passed out halfway through sawin' my own hand off. Woke back up to the smell of blood, the sound of those geeks clawing at the door and gnashing their teeth. Picked the saw back up and finished the job." He removed the prosthetic from his arm, revealing the horribly scarred stump where his hand used to be. Lucy flinched, and she looked to Negan. "It's a helluva thing, losin' a hand. Funny the things you take for granted. Even jerkin' off ain't the same anymore."

"Jesus," Negan groaned. "Do you really have to be here?" He looked to Carol and then Daryl. "Does he have to be here?" He looked to Merle's mangled arm. "Cover that shit up. Looks like you used a goddamned butter knife." Merle laughed, and he put the prosthetic back on.

"Get used to it. I did. She's gonna have to," Merle pointed out. "She's never gonna be the same again. Took a part of her with the arm, I reckon. Gonna have a hell of a story to tell your grandchildren, providin' the dead don't eat your boy." Negan pushed back his chair, standing and eyeing Merle. Merle grinned at him.

"Merle, shut the fuck up," Daryl spat. He looked to Lucy and Negan. "He's an asshole but he's harmless."

"Don't let my sweet baby brother fool you. Cut off my arm, not my goddamn balls. You look at me like that again, I'll cut you down. Don't care who's daddy you are." Merle looked to Lucy then. "You ever need a hand with anything, you call me." He looked to Negan and winked. "I mean anything." Negan grabbed Merle by the shirt then, punching him right in the nose and Daryl got between them, pushing them apart.

"Merle!" Carol sighed with exasperation. "I think you're forgetting who let _you_ stay here. Go cool off." Merle wiped his nose, and turned to leave the house.

"Your brother, huh?" Negan asked, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

"Yeah. Accident by birth," Daryl muttered. Negan smirked.

"Well, outta respect to your wife, I'll keep my distance from him. But I swear to God, he ever disrespects my wife like that again, I'll take his other hand."

"He won't. You got my word," Daryl promised. "You can stay. I got my own family to look after, but so long as you help out and pull your own weight, you can stay." He looked to Carol. "So long as everybody's on board with that."

"Keep that attack dog on a leash, and you've got a deal," Negan muttered. Dog, who had been laying on the floor nearby, raised his head. "I meant Merle. What the hell kinda name is that, anyway? Who names their kid that?"

"Probably the same kinda person who names their kid Negan," Daryl bit out, getting a swat on the arm from Carol. Negan laughed, and Lucy even managed a smile, but then her face fell, and she winced in pain.

"Baby, I'm tired," Lucy murmured, shifting the baby slightly. Negan leaned down and took his son, and she put her hand on his shoulder, and he helped her stand. "I need to lay down for a while."

"Just hold onto me. I've got you," he promised. He glanced at Daryl and nodded. "Nice to meet you. Thanks for the hospitality. We'll try not to wear out our welcome." They turned then, and Negan helped Lucy back to their room. He put the baby down in his cradle and helped Lucy down onto the bed and under the covers. When she lay her head back against the pillow, she reached out and stroked his cheek with her hand.

"Please, try to get along with Merle. He's a jerk and rough around the edges, but he kind of reminds me of someone I know and love."

"Don't say it," Negan groaned. "Babe…come on. He's a prick. A redneck prick."

"Yeah, but you weren't much better once upon a time. I remember you. The cocky baseball star."

"You liked the cocky baseball star," Negan grinned.

"Yeah, but I fell in love with the man underneath all that. You're a good man, and I love you, but you _have_ to make this work. I can't go out there. Not with him." She looked to the baby. "I want to stay here. Carol's our friend, and she's helped us so much. I can't go back out there, babe. I can't."

"We won't. No matter what happens," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "we're not going anywhere."

...

"You're a dick."

"Tell me somethin' I don't know," Merle snorted, sitting down on his bed and reaching down to untie his boots with his good hand.

"Look, I ain't exactly thrilled they're here either, but they are, and so long as everybody gets along, that ain't gonna change."

"This is your place. Might not have been from the start, but you made it your own. You say who stays and goes, baby brother."

"You think I'm gonna turn away somebody hurt or sick? You think I'm gonna make somebody go out there with a baby with them things out there?" Daryl asked.

"There you go again. Thinkin' about somebody else when you got your own family to think about," Merle grumbled, looking up at him. "When are you gonna learn that this world ain't like the old one. Givin' to somebody weaker is just gonna make _you_ weaker. I say, give 'em a week's worth of supplies, some ammo and send 'em on their way."

"They're here. Get used to it. And you stay away from that woman. She's got enough problems without havin' to worry about you."

"Didn't mean nothin' by it. Folks get their panties in a twist so easy these days. Least he stood up for his woman. Good for him. Still don't like the prick."

"You don't even know him."

"I'd like to keep it that way," Merle pointed out with a smirk. Daryl shook his head, and he turned to leave Merle for the night. He closed the door and headed across the hall for a quick shower. By the time he was finished, the house was dark and quiet, and when he walked into the bedroom, he saw Carol leaning over Lydia's crib. He locked the door and stepped up beside his wife, peering down in the crib and their sleeping baby.

"I moved her back in here for now. I feel better having her close."

"Good," he said quietly.

"You're mad, aren't you?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"I'm not mad. Just…they could've hurt you. Or Lydia."

"You weren't there, Daryl. She would've died if I hadn't let them stay. I know it. And her son's healthy. She's getting stronger every day." She reached out and put her hand on his arm. "You would've done the same thing. I know you would have. And I've been careful with Lydia. I keep her close, and if I'm not with her, I have the monitor on and Dog close by her. She sleeps in here at night, and I lock the door, because I worry. I was careful. I promise." Daryl sighed then and pulled Carol into a hug. "It's a death sentence out there. It wasn't smart, but it was the _right_ thing to do. You know it." Daryl looked away, remembering seeing Beth's reanimated corpse coming at him. She was just a kid. Nobody deserved to die like that.

"I know," he murmured. "M'just glad I'm home. Hated bein' away from you."

"I hated it too. Did you find…anything?" Daryl looked up then, and she saw something flicker in his eyes. She swallowed hard when she saw his gaze falter, and he just nodded his head.

"I'll tell you about it. I just…m'tired, and I just wanna sleep next to my wife. Ain't slept for shit in days. I just…" Carol took his hand in hers then.

"Come to bed. We'll sleep, and in the morning, you can tell me." Daryl nodded then, and he followed Carol to the bed. They climbed in together, cozying up under the covers, and it didn't take long for sleep to pull them both under, safe in each other's arms.

_Author's Note: I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. I've been in a bit of a slump with some personal things going on, so my head's not been really in the writing game. I do hope you enjoyed it, and I hope to hear what you think. As always, thanks for reading, and feedback is always appreciated!_


	26. Future

Chapter 26: Future

Carol gasped, sitting up in bed as a clap of thunder shook the house. Daryl's hands were already on her shoulders, and when she peered at him through the pale moonlight, her heartbeat began to slow.

"You're alright," he promised. "Hey. Carol?"

"What…what happened?"

"You were havin' a bad dream," he murmured. Carol ran her fingers through her hair and reached to turn on the bedside lamp. "Been a long time." Carol nodded her head, and Daryl's eyes searched hers. He gently squeezed her shoulders, and she reached up to stroke his cheek.

"I'm ok. I promise," she whispered. "I don't even remember it." She took a deep, ragged breath, and she ran her fingers through her hair. "Sorry I woke you."

"I was awake," he said quietly.

"Bad dreams?"

"Ain't slept yet. Just sat up watchin' you sleep. Checkin' on Lydia."

"It's ok to rest," Carol whispered. "Dog's right outside the door. I know they're strangers, but they won't be forever."

"It ain't that." Daryl lay back against his pillow and folded his arms behind his head. Carol turned and placed her hand against his chest.

"I saw Rick's hat in the truck." She chewed her bottom lip a moment. "Is Carl dead?"

"Don't know," Daryl offered with a little shrug and a raise of an eyebrow. "Just found the hat and the blood that was on it. Best I can tell, he dropped it when they ran." He caught her gaze.

"You're not telling me something," she murmured, gently curling her fingers into his shirt. He placed his hand over hers.

"We were at the prison," he said quietly. "Place was overrun. Just nothin' left for the living." He shook his head. "Outta nowhere, this walker starts comin' at us. Thing is, I couldn't tell who it was at first. But as it gets nearer, I realize it's Beth."

"Oh God," Carol murmured, placing her hand to her mouth.

"She's just comin' at us, and Merle puts her down. Don't see how any of 'em coulda survived that, but I guess some of 'em must've. But Beth…she didn't make it. She was just a kid."

"It's horrible. Doesn't matter who it is. Nobody should have to die like that." Her shoulders shook with a ragged breath. "The others? They could still be alive."

"They might be. But they're gone. Couldn't track 'em." He shook his head. "I never shoulda left. Shoulda stayed with you. I'm done lookin' for ghosts."

"Daryl."

"You and Lydia. That's what matters. And Merle, if ya had to twist my arm." Carol couldn't help the little grin that tugged at her lips. "You're my family. Rick's got his own to look after. If we're gonna build somethin' here, we gotta start here." Carol curled up against him, and she rested her head on his chest.

"We'll start building."

"Bigger we make this place, the bigger a target we are."

"We'll let people in, and we'll protect this place," Carol insisted. "But we're going to need walls. And we're going to need help building them." She looked to Daryl. "You and Merle can't do all that on your own. I know Merle doesn't like him, and I know they're strangers, but we're going to need Negan. We're going to need more people if we're going to protect this place."

"I know," he murmured. He eyed her. "You want me to ask 'em to stay?"

"No. Just don't make them leave. It's a death sentence out there. And Merle…"

"He'll behave." Carol raised an eyebrow, and Daryl grinned. "Alright, he won't, but ain't nobody ever got Merle to behave himself, so don't think it's gonna happen now. I'll talk to him."

"Thank you," Carol murmured softly, kissing him. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too." He kissed her then, and when he pulled back, he saw a little smile pull at her lips.

"Come here," she whispered. He leaned in then, rolling her onto her back and crawling over her. She smiled, looking up at him with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Missed you," he murmured against her lips, as her hands curled into his hair. She giggled when his fingers trailed down her hip and tugged at the waist of her pants. He started reaching for the drawer on the bedside table, for the box of condoms concealed inside. Carol brought her hand up to still his arm. He pulled back, staring at her curiously.

"Kiss me."

"You sure?" She gently slid her fingers down his jaw, and she nodded.

"We have a future. We can't be afraid of it." And then she kissed him again, sighing softly against his lips as he took a moment to process her words and let the reality sink in. He pulled back then, and she leaned back against the pillow.

"Don't wanna lose you."

"You will someday. I could get bitten by a walker. I could die in my sleep." She gently put her hand against his chest. "It'll happen. Who says it'll be tomorrow? Or next year. Or in ten years?" She took a shaking breath. "I lived almost fifteen years of my life being afraid of what I'd wake up to, being afraid every time that front door opened. Somehow, in this world, I get to live the life I always thought I should have. I'm happy, Daryl. For the first time in a long time. I miss Sophia every day. That hurt never goes away. But when you kiss me, or when Lydia laughs? Everything feels right again. I'm not afraid anymore. Not of living. I'm not afraid to sleep anymore or to wake up, because I know it's you I'm waking up to." He answered her with a kiss, and she smiled against his lips. When he pulled back, she bit her lip. "I love you."

"Love you more," he murmured, before leaning in to kiss her once again.


	27. Looking Forward

Chapter 27: Looking Forward

"Listen to that," Carol sighed, resting her head against Daryl's chest as the morning sun slowly lit up the room around them. They lay there in silence for a moment before Daryl chuckled.

"Don't hear nothin'."

"Exactly," she laughed. "I can't remember the last time I woke up on my own without somebody making noise." She yawned and stretched and rolled to her back. She sat up in the bed, letting the sheet fall around her lap, and Daryl gently rubbed her bare back as Carol stared off toward the open bedroom door.

"Yeah, we can walk naked through the house if we want to." Carol laughed.

"Why would we do that?"

"Don't know. Just sayin', we got the option now." He sat up and kissed the spot between her shoulder blades, and Carol grinned, turning her face toward his and meeting him for a kiss. "You do it yet?"

"What?"

"You know." Carol sighed.

"Daryl."

"Ain't you the one that says you gotta do it first thing in the morning?"

"I'm not pregnant," Carol pointed out.

"Still, I'd feel better knowin' for sure before we go on that run today." Carol turned then, and Daryl pulled her into his arms. She straddled his lap with her knees and kissed him slowly and deeply. His thumb brushed over her breast, teasing over her nipple and she gasped. Daryl pulled back from the kiss and he smirked at her. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You've been reading those books again, haven't you? You realize I get sensitive right before my period, right?" She looked away. "I was twenty-eight when Sophia was born. And I struggled to get pregnant then. I just…don't want you to get your hopes up."

"No hopes," he promised, holding his hands up in faux surrender. "Just…you slept in."

"Because I didn't have a house full of noisy people for the first time in…"

"You jumped me last night."

"What?"

"When we went to bed. You practically ripped my clothes off before we got upstairs." Carol's face grew hot, and she chewed at her fingertip for a moment.

"What can I say? I have needs." She batted her eyelashes at him, and he smirked.

"Take the test. Please?"

"Oh, since you asked so nicely," she sighed. "Fine." She pulled herself out of bed and grabbed her robe off of the hook on the closet door. Daryl propped his arms under his head and watched her hips sway as she walked toward the bathroom. Her hips were a little fuller these days, another reason he suspected she might be pregnant. Of course, he'd never tell her that. She was perfect to him, and the slight swell of her belly could have been just a result of their sustainable garden. Her breasts were heavier, too. He certainly wasn't complaining.

When she returned from the bathroom with the stick in her hand, Daryl sat up a little.

"Well?"

"Well, I've got nothing. Probably has something to do with the fact that this pregnancy test expired two years ago." Daryl grunted and ran his palm over his face. "I'm not pregnant."

"You don't know that," Daryl insisted. Carol smirked and shook her head.

"I think you just don't want me to go on that run with you," she teased, tossing the test in the waste basket. She reached out and shut the bedroom door.

"You kidding? Always lookin' for a chance to get ya alone." He waggled his brows at her, and she returned to the bed, shucking off her robe and straddling his hips.

"You've got me alone now. What're you gonna do about it?" Daryl smirked at her then, pulling the pillow out from under his head. Carol cocked an eyebrow and watched as he lay his head back against the mattress. He gripped her hips and began to scoot down a little. She knew exactly what he wanted, and her heart thudded against her chest when his fingers slipped between her legs. She gasped, throwing her head back, and she raised up on her knees so Daryl could scoot himself down under her. She placed her hands his chest and slid up, framing his head with her knees, and she let out a sharp cry when he slid his tongue between her folds.

She gripped the headboard of the bed, rocking her hips gently against his face as he buried his nose into her curls and used his lips and tongue to suck and tease her until she was dripping against his mouth. Her breathing hitched as she rocked against him, and it didn't take long until her body was shuddering through a powerful orgasm. She sighed, moving to straddle his hips again, his hard cock straining at her throbbing core. She kissed him hard and hungrily, and she reached between them to guide him inside.

He flipped her onto her back, buying himself fully inside of her. She arched back as she tasted her own tang against his tongue. His kisses trailed down her chin and her neck and between her breasts, and her nails scraped down his back and his ass. He thrust hard against her, pulling one of her legs up over his hip and thrusting deeper. She cried out against his neck, muffling her cries when he reached between them and stroked her clit with his thumb. His lips curled around her nipple, sucking sharply enough to get a cry out of her, and when he teased the other with his teeth and tongue, she moved her hands into his hair, tugging hard as her walls squeezed around him in a powerful orgasm, triggering his own shortly thereafter.

"That never gets old," she laughed, as he collapsed on top of her and buried his face between her breasts. He snorted then, and she gently ran her hands up and down his back.

"Glad I ain't borin' you after all this time." He crawled up and pressed his lips against hers. He gently ran his fingers along her jaw and up through her hair. It had grown out over time, now soft and spilling over her shoulders, mostly grey with some traces of dark brown still streaking through it. She always wore it pulled up, fixed in the back to keep it practical, but he always loved to watch her take it down at night, brushing it out and watching herself in the mirror, wondering where the time went. "Still gonna be crazy about you when we're both old and…"

"Grey?" she asked, grinning at him.

"I didn't mean…"

"I know," she murmured. "I know."

"Wouldn't change a thing . Ya know that, right?" He kissed her again.

"I know," she smiled. Daryl's hand moved down between them then, over the slight swell of her stomach. "I'm _not_ pregnant." She pushed his hand away, but he chuckled.

"Ya don't sound convinced." He kissed her again, and she sighed.

"You're impossible."

"You're pregnant," he chuckled. "I know it."

"You don't," she laughed, as he kissed down between her breasts and then over the faint, white marks on her belly. "Maybe I'm just getting fat."

"Either way, I like it." Carol snorted and sighed, biting her lip when she watched the way he kissed her belly.

"It's just bloat. You're gonna be really embarrassed when you realize I'm not growing a human."

"Then we can try again," he offered.

"Daryl," she groaned.

"You changed your mind?" he asked, pulling away from her long enough to crawl back up to rest beside her on the bed.

"No," she sighed. "I still want a baby. I just…like I said. I don't want you to get your hopes up."

"Ya don't want to get your own hopes up," he concluded. She nodded her head. "Maybe it's not meant to be. I'm forty-five. I'm lucky I've survived this long with the dead trying to beat down our doors."

"Hey," he murmured, cutting her off with a kiss, "ya didn't say that before."

"I know," she said softly. "I'm just trying to convince myself it doesn't matter either way. I guess that way it won't hurt so much if it doesn't happen." She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe we're crazy, bringing babies into this world."

"Somebody's gotta be left to bring the world back to what it was."

"Better than it was, hopefully," Carol pointed out with a smile. Daryl chuckled, and he brushed his hand over her stomach. "Only one way to know for sure."

"Yeah," Carol sighed. "I know. I'll go today. Before we go on the run."

"Promise?"

"Promise," she insisted, kissing him one more time before slipping out of bed.

"Where you goin'?"

"I need a shower before breakfast. You care to join me?" She'd barely gotten the words out of her mouth before Daryl was bounding out of bed and practically tackling her against the bathroom door, being careful and mindful of a potential pregnancy.

"Who's jumping who, now?" Carol asked, teasing her husband and wrapping her arms around his neck. He answered her with a growl before shutting the bathroom door behind them.

...

"How was it?" Daryl asked, stepping out on the porch of the new house with Negan and Lucy.

"A little drafty. 'Course, electricity would be a plus," Negan pointed out. Lucy smacked his arm and rolled her eyes.

"We love it. Thank you," Lucy said with a gracious smile.

"We'll get that goin' for ya soon enough with the solar panels. Just gotta make sense of the instructions Eugene left us with."

"Dr. Smartypants. I miss that weirdo," Negan snorted. "Wonder if they ever made it to Washington?"

"If he really had a cure, I think we'd know by now," Lucy said softly. "I wish they'd stayed."

"I think you just had a crush on Big Red," Negan teased.

"Abraham? Please! He's much too macho for me."

"Ouch," Negan laughed. "My wife. Funny, isn't she?" Daryl couldn't help but smirk before a little blonde headed kid came bounding out of the house.

"We gonna go shoot some walkers today? Huh, Dad?" Negan lifted the boy up in his arms and put him on his shoulders.

"Not today. Your dad's got fence duty."

"Aw, can I come?"

"No, Henry," Lucy cut in, "you're helping Mama in the garden today."

"Aw, but I wanna shoot walkers," Henry pouted, his little lip sticking out. "I'm five-years-old now, Mama. Please?"

"We'll re-visit this conversation when you're ten, young man," she said sternly. "Now be a good boy and go inside and find the weeding pail." Negan let the boy down, and he hurried off inside. Lydia shook her head, but her expression quickly turned to one of discomfort. She winced then, rubbing the spot where her prosthetic arm pinched at her skin.

"How's that workin' out for ya, Lucy?" Daryl asked.

"It's a bit snug, but it works," she said with a smile. "It's not every day you come across a prosthetic, so I'll make due until something else comes along."

"Try takin' it over to Merle. He's good with that kinda stuff."

"Yeah. Don't forget to ask him to fit you for one of those handy stump knives, too."

"Would you shut up?" Lucy asked. "You're terrible." Negan pulled his arms around his wife's waist and brought her in for a kiss. A clatter from inside the house alerted them to Henry getting into something he shouldn't be, and with an exasperated sigh, Lucy went in to see what he was up to.

"Alright, I'm outta here."

"You and Carol goin' out on that run?" Negan asked with a wide, knowing grin.

"Yeah. Want me to find some soap to wash that look off your face?"

"Wow," Negan laughed. "Now be honest. You're just going out there to get some ass. I mean, granted, you're married, and you don't have to even leave your house, but the thought of being out there in the open, making love to your beautiful wife where anything or anybody could come along, it's exciting, right? The danger of it."

"You been spendin' too much time with my brother," Daryl snorted.

"What can I say? He grows on you after a while."

"Yeah, you two'll be happy together," Daryl muttered. "You shoulda just moved in with him when we got his house done. Woulda been a lot happier."

"Me or you? 'Cause I couldn't give up seein' your raggedy ass every morning at breakfast time. Always a treat." Negan smiled, and Daryl shook his head. "Gotta admit, it's nice to be able to sleep with my wife and not have to worry about waking you and sleeping beauty. Not that you two were quiet. Christ, sometimes I thought the goddamn roof was caving in. How do you get her to make that noise? You know the one…"

"Boys." Negan and Daryl both turned at the sound of Carol's voice as she came walking across the yard with her pack on her back. "How was your first night in the new place?"

"Oh, great," Negan said with a smirk. "Great acoustics." Carol furrowed her brows, and Daryl just shook his head and looked to his wife.

"Remind me to change the locks later."

"Oh, now that hurts," Negan uttered, putting his hand over his chest. "You two. Be careful. You got a radio charged in the truck?" Daryl nodded, and Negan held his hand out to wave to Carol. She just gave him a smile and turned to walk with Daryl toward Merle's house. She slipped her hand into his.

"So?" he asked.

"So…"

"What'd Denise say?" he asked, glancing at her as they walked together. She shook her head.

"She's in bed sick."

"What?" Daryl asked. "But she's the doctor."

"Doctors have sick days too, Pookie," Carol pouted.

"Maybe you ought to stay."

"Give me a break. Even if I'm pregnant, I'm not incapable of taking care of myself." Daryl eyed her. "Besides, it's been a while since we went out there. Just the two of us. Uncle Merle's got things under control here."

"You sure you're ok with this?"

"I never would have expected your brother to be so good with kids. He's a natural." Carol kissed his cheek. "Come on. Let's go say goodbye."

Dog was laying on the porch of Merle's house when Carol and Daryl approached. He lifted his head and sniffed the air before yawning and laying back down. The house was similar to Negan and Lucy's. It was a group effort, really. The houses weren't perfect, but they were sound. Over the past five years, their little group of seven plus Dog had grown to a group of over twenty. There were six small houses build along the property. A large, sustainable garden took up a large part of one of the fields, while livestock grazed in another field. They had cows, horses, goats and chickens, and while the extra people and animals made the place a target for walkers, the fences had long since been reinforced with metal sheeting and wooden posts to keep them secure and upright.

A sustainable future was much closer than it had been five years ago. There were people working together, building, growing, bringing babies into the world, scavenging, protecting the walls. It was a real community, and Carol and Daryl took pride in the home they'd created for their family.

"Daddy! Mommy!" Lydia came rushing out of Merle's house with a paper in one hand and a crayon in the other. "I drew a picture for Uncle Merle!"

"Oh, let's see," Carol urged, kneeling down in the grass to see her daughter's brightly drawn picture of a stick figure with a knife for a hand. In the old world, that might have given a child nightmares, but it was Lydia's reality, and Merle made sure he didn't wear the knife prosthetic much when inside the walls. Merle had certainly surprised them both. Daryl never thought his brother could be gentle to any living creature, but Lydia had him wrapped around her little finger.

"That's nice," Carol said with a smile.

"You even got his big, dopey smile," Daryl offered. He looked at Carol. "Our kid's gonna be an artist."

"I'm gonna be a hunter, like you Daddy," Lydia insisted, looking up at him with her long, dark hair hanging in her face. Daryl reached down and pushed her hair back, revealing her sparkling hazel eyes.

"I bet you will, kiddo," he offered, leaning down and kissing the top of his head.

Merle came stepping out on the porch with a giggling two-year-old in his arms. The little one had reddish blonde hair, and he had freckles on his face like his mama.

"There's my favorite boy," Carol grinned, getting up and reaching out for her son. The boy giggled when Carol kissed his cheek, and he rested his head on her shoulder.

"Stay, Mama."

"I'll just be a little while, Luke. I promise. Now, remember what Daddy and I said. Be good for Uncle Merle. And, be nice to your sister."

"She be nice!" Luke insisted, pointing at his sister, who made a face at him.

"You _both_ be nice to each other. And to Uncle Merle," Daryl insisted. Carol kissed Luke's chubby cheeks and handed him back to Merle. She leaned down and hugged Lydia.

"Mommy, don't get hurt."

"I promise I won't. But if I do? We've got a really good doctor here who'll patch me right up. Right?"

"Right!" Lydia offered with a nod. "Mommy, can I go play with Henry?"

"That's up to Uncle Merle. You behave, ok?"

"Okay," Lydia nodded. "Bye, Mommy. Bye, Daddy."

"Bye, Lyddie," Daryl called, waving to his kids. He pointed to Merle and mouthed 'no junk food' before turning and walking back toward the truck with Carol.

Once they were out on the road, Carol rolled her window down and leaned her head back, enjoying the breeze as they made their way down the old country road.

"You sure you want another one?" Daryl asked after about five minutes on the road.

"What?"

"You keep sayin' it's not happening."

"You know why. I told you why. I just don't…"

"Wanna get your hopes up. I know. But you're sure?"

"Sure," Carol said with a sigh. "Of course. Daryl, I honestly never thought in a million years I'd get pregnant. It took a long while before Luke finally came along. It's possible it won't happen for us again."

"Also possible it will," Daryl pointed out.

"You really want another girl, don't you?" Carol asked with a laugh. "I swear, I was worried when Luke turned out to be a boy. I knew how bad you wanted another girl."

"Don't care either way, really. Just be nice to have a little girl with your eyes. That's all," he shrugged. Carol chuckled and reached across the seat to take his hand in hers. "We got our family. If it don't get no bigger, that's alright, 'cause what we got now is pretty great." Daryl brought Carol's hand to his lips and kissed her open palm.

"I love you," she sighed, smiling at him as he glanced over at her and let go of her hand. With a content smile upon her lips, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the quiet as they rode toward town together. Absently, she placed her hand upon her stomach, and when she caught herself, she quickly drew her hand away. She didn't want to get her hopes up. She'd lucked out with Luke. As long as it had taken her to conceive him, she was certain he'd be her last baby. But she and Daryl had started talking about it again a few months ago, and while she welcomed the idea, she knew it was going to be a difficult journey for them. She knew he loved her and their family no matter what. The idea that it was even an option for them anymore was baffling. This was a world that was trying to die, but they were fighting every step of the way to keep it going for their daughter, and now, for their son and any future children.

Whatever happened, she welcomed each day as it came. Any day in this world was worth ten of the days in the past with abuse and pain and fear. The only thing missing from that world was Sophia. She often imagined what kind of big sister Sophia would be. She could even see Sophia's face in Luke's. Those freckles and that hair. He could have been his big sister's twin at that age. But, as each day passed, she saw more of Daryl in him. He was a true Dixon. Ornery and sweet. She wouldn't change a thing. She was grateful to be his mother, and seeing Daryl with his son made her heart swell. Lydia had changed their lives so completely, and watching Daryl grow as a father to two children was something to behold. He took every day in stride, and he was the best partner she could ask for.

She turned her head to look at him, smiling as she thought back to the man he was at the quarry, the man he became at the farm, and the father and husband he was now. She wanted to give him everything. The world. A home filled with children. Whatever he wanted. Because he'd tried to give her everything from early on, tried to keep hope alive in her heart. And today, that hope was still there. Even if her girl was gone, she still saw that Cherokee Rose every time she looked into his eyes. She felt his words with each beat of her heart. She knew this man was the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her days with. She was thankful for him, thankful she'd been given a chance to really live.

_Author's Note: Yes, that's two chapters in one day! I hope you are all still enjoying the story. Please let me know! As always, feedback is very much appreciated!_


	28. The Bet

Chapter 28: The Bet

It had started out as an uneasy alliance between the Dixon family and Negan's family. The first few months hadn't been easy. Negan and Merle had beaten the shit out of each other a couple of times before Daryl threatened to make them all leave, Merle included. Somehow, between supply runs and rounding up livestock, Merle and Negan had put their differences aside and started working together, still trying to get on each other's last nerve whenever possible.

Carol had struck up a friendship with Lucy very quickly after things settled down. When it was agreed upon that Lucy and Negan could stay on the farm with their son so long as they helped out, plans quickly were drawn up for ensuring a future.

In the first year, they searched nearby farms for any livestock that might have been left and not taken down by walkers. At first, they just found some chickens, but it wasn't long before they found a couple of horses and cows.

As everyday life on the farm grew, more walkers gathered at the fences. Before fall, they had already reinforced the sturdy fences with heavy, metal sheeting they'd pulled from a construction site. The sheets were twelve feet tall in some places, and it took nearly a full year to get the entire perimeter covered.

The gate at the front of the drive was still the main entrance and exit off of the farm, and nobody got in or out without a key. Someone was constantly on patrol.

By the second year, they had a couple of foals and calves. There were more chickens, eggs were a common breakfast item, and they had plenty of their previous year's garden vegetables canned in glass mason jars.

This was the same year that Daryl and Negan came across a group of travelers on a mission. Abraham and Rosita were escorting a scientist with a mullet named Eugene to Washington D.C. for some kind of Hail Mary attempt at saving the world and wiping out the undead population. Abraham had been in need of medical treatment for a wound on his hand, and Daryl and Negan had agreed to bring the group to the farm for treatment and food in exchange for some help with some solar panels they'd scavenged near an airport.

The group had stayed on the farm for two weeks. The young doctor who'd come along months before was more than capable of sewing Abraham's deep cut and clearing out the infection. Carol and Daryl had offered for them to stay on at the farm considering there had been literally no sighting of any sort of official or military personnel since before they'd left Atlanta. But the group had insisted on pressing on. Eugene had left extremely detailed instructions for maintaining the solar panels and installing them.

By the third year, Carol became pregnant with Luke, and while she stayed behind from many supply runs, she began overseeing the intake of new survivors. There were only a few people at first. For the first two years, they only took in nine people. But by the time Carol delivered Luke, the population on their little farm was booming. Houses were being built. Children were playing in the fields, and the world felt like it was slowly returning to normal.

By the fourth year, most everyone at the farm, aside from the children, were skilled shooters and could defend themselves if the occasion arose.

Lucy, who had adapted well to the loss of her arm, was an excellent shot, though her preferred weapon when taking on a walker was a sharp but light weight machete. She was an impressive sight to behold on supply runs when things got hairy.

Carol had found a light weight but sturdy bow and arrow set at a sporting goods store, and she had picked it up so quickly that she and Daryl often competed with one another to see who could make the best shot during a hunt. It was one of the many things she enjoyed doing with him outside of the walls.

She still often thought of Lori and Rick and the rest of the group, wondering where they might be. They were either dead or in another part of the country. In the nearly six years that had passed since she'd last seen them, she was certain they'd never see them again. If they were still alive, they were long gone, and there was really no use in dwelling on the past.

"Oh, I'm going to hit up the fabrics section."

"Fabrics?"

"Nabila and Jerry's baby's due any minute."

"Didn't they just have one?" Daryl asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"This is number three. Keep up," Carol laughed. Jerry and Nabila had traveled from the North East. They'd been traveling with a group of people who followed the leadership of some guy who liked to call himself a king. They'd gotten caught in a herd of walkers and been separated from the rest of the group. Nabila had just given birth to their first child, and Jerry had wanted to get them to safety as soon as possible. So, they'd found a car, headed West and had arrived at the farm three years ago with a toddler. Their second child, a son, arrived a year and a half later, and now baby number three was expected to arrive any minute.

"Number three." Daryl shook his head. "Swear I don't think they got any hobbies."

"Who are you to talk, Mister? 'Let's have a whole baseball team of our own.' That's what you said about five minutes after you held Luke for the first time." Daryl scoffed, but she had a point. The truth of the matter was that he had been perfectly happy with their little family when it was just himself, Carol and Lydia. And then Carol had gotten pregnant with Luke. And he had been more terrified than he'd ever been in his entire life. He knew she was scared, too, but she hadn't let on, especially there at the end, when she'd exhausted herself trying to push him into the world. He'd been so scared of losing her, cursed himself for ever thinking it was a good idea to try to bring another life into the world, and then he'd heard his son's cry and seen his wife's eyes light up in the most magical way.

"We can stop after this one," Daryl promised.

"Listen to you," Carol laughed. "I'm…"

"You say you're not pregnant one more time, I'm gonna start bettin' against ya."

"Oh yeah?" Carol asked with a little laugh. "What are the stakes?"

"Gotta think about it," Daryl said with a shrug. They turned down the aisle toward the fabric department. Carol started sorting through the bolts of fabric, tossing aside those that had been moth eaten. She came out with three full bolts of white fabric and several patterned fabrics.

"When we find out I'm right, you gotta potty train this one."

"What?!"

"It's gonna be a girl, and I potty trained Luke."

"Oh, I beg to differ!"

"'Bout this one bein' a girl or me trainin' Luke."

"Both!" Carol laughed. "I'm not pregnant, and _you_ let him run around the house without a diaper until all my rugs were ruined."

"He went in the toilet," Daryl pointed out.

"And in the garden, in the fake tree in the living room, and if memory serves me, all over Negan's favorite boots."

"He learned though, didn't he?"

"And gave the neighbors a show in the process," Carol snorted.

"It's a thing. Boys piss outside. Spent most of my time out in the woods. I ever tell you the story about wipin' my ass with poison oak?"

"Only about seventeen times since Merle got it last year."

"Yeah. He used to give me shit for it. Who got the last laugh?"

"Men," Carol sighed. "Fine. And if I'm right, which I am, you have to give me an hour-long massage."

"Pfft, that's a win for me."

"How?"

"'Cause every time you ask me to give ya a massage, you always end up beggin' me to fuck you before I'm done." Carol blushed but bit back a grin.

"Fine. An hour. All massaging, no fucking. I can keep my hands to myself if you can resist letting _yours_ wander."

"I'll bet on your bet."

"What?"

"You won't make it the whole hour before you beg."

"I'll never beg," she insisted, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yeah, you're right. 'Cause you're pregnant, and I'm gonna win."

"Ass," Carol scoffed, as Daryl tugged her into his arms and kissed her hungrily. She giggled against his lips, each kiss feeling like the first and the last, still just as magical as the first time he'd pressed his lips against hers.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading, guys! Please keep the feedback coming. I appreciate it so much. _


	29. Just Another Day

Chapter 29: Just Another Day

"Alright. I'm only gonna say this once. You three, play nice. Don't want no smackin', no hair pullin', and no screamin'. I hear any one of ya belly-achin', I'm takin' you back to the house. You hear me?" Merle glared at the three giggling kids in the back of the pickup truck. He had the tailgate up to keep the kids from falling out, and he'd preoccupied them all with some wooden blocks to build with.

"Luke always knocks our houses down," Henry pointed out.

"That's 'cause he's a damn two year old."

"Why'd he have to come?" Lydia whined.

"'Cause I ain't leavin' the little shit alone. I ain't stupid. Now you two play nice, and if the little sprout knocks your toys over, I dunno, knock his over." Lydia sighed and shook her head, and Merle's shoulders fell. He loved his niece and nephew more than he could even say, but they had to be the most exasperating kids that ever lived. And one of them had Dixon blood running in his veins. The thought of Daryl and Carol having to deal with that through the teenage years brought a smirk to his lips, and he couldn't wait to watch all that. But add Negan's progeny Henry to the mix and those three were just the perfect recipe for either trouble or a goddamn headache.

"Christ. What am I? Mary fuckin' Poppins?" Mere muttered, walking away from the truck and walking over to where Negan stood by the front gates.

"Thought you were off duty today? Miss me already?" Negan asked with a shit-eating grin.

"Miss that wife of yours even more," Merle drawled out, licking his lips.

"Yeah, you try anything with her, she'd have your danglers for earrings," Negan smirked.

"Weren't that long ago, you'd have knocked me on my ass for a remark like that."

"Growth," Negan smiled. "Besides. Lucy can take care of herself. Not that I wouldn't step in if needed, but my girl could take you down in a half second without breaking a sweat."

"Oh, I know she can. She learned from Carol, and Carol could probably wipe all of us out in a one on one. Resourceful. A damn stick of dynamite buried in a land mine, that one is." A little grin played at his lips, and Negan narrowed his eyes at him.

"You got a thing for everybody's wife, or just mine and your brother's?"

"What can I say? I like women. Been a long damn time since I had a beautiful woman warmin' my bed and wettin' my…"

"Babe?" Negan and Merle turned to see Lucy walking toward them with something behind her back.

"Hi, beautiful," Negan grinned. "What're you doing out here? Thought you were helping out at the infirmary for Denise today."

"Yeah, I was about to go, but I was surprised you left something behind." Negan furrowed his brows, and Lucy brought out a solid, wooden bat wrapped in barbed wire from behind her. She held the sturdy weapon with ease. "You almost forgot this."

"Didn't think I'd need it out here," Negan pointed out, taking the weapon in his hand. "No skinbags on this side of the wall."

"Yeah, well, you barely let it out of your sight. Sometimes I think you like it more than you like me," she teased. Negan put the bat aside and wrapped his wife in his arms, and Merle made a face. "I'm surprised you don't give it some girl's name like men like to do with their favorite toys." She rolled her eyes, and Negan laughed before kissing her.

"I like her 'cause I made her," Negan pointed out. "Ingenious, if I do say so myself. But I don't like her more than you."

"Her," Lucy snorted. "Boys and their toys." Negan kissed her again.

"Jesus Christ on a Christmas tree. Get a fuckin' room."

"Oh, Merle, no need to be jealous," Lucy teased. "I'm not staying long. I know you miss your best friend." She patted Negan's cheek.

"Hey, Luce," Merle piped up, "how 'bout you takin' the little sprouts to the infirmary with you. I'll stay out here and make sure your husband doesn't fuck anything up."

"You want me to take three small children to an infirmary? Where sick people go? I'm going to have to disinfect as it is. Denise has been sick, and Tara's got her hands full with taking care of her. Doctors make the worst patients."

"So, you won't take 'em?" Merle asked. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"You're the one that agreed to watch them."

"Didn't agree to watchin' your brat," he pointed out.

"He's Lydia's best friend. Kinda comes with the package," Lucy laughed. "You boys have fun." She kissed Negan once more before going over to give Henry a kiss. The boy was still too young to be embarrassed by it.

"Got yourself a fine woman there," Merle said with a shake of his head. "Real fine woman."

"I know I do. Now get your eyes off her ass before I knock you on yours." Merle snorted then and turned. "You gonna help me, or are you gonna stand there thinking about women you can't have?"

"Know what? I was gonna help you out while the little ones was occupied, but I think I'll take 'em on back to the house, let you enjoy yourself all alone."

"Asshole," Negan snorted, tossing a hammer at Merle's feet. "Would you just give me a hand?"

"Only got one. Guess I might as well put it to use."

"Yeah. I'm sure it's used to a little back and forth motion anyway." Merle stopped then, and a grin spread over his face.

"That…that was a good one. Damned ashamed it wasn't me that thought of it first," Merle laughed, shaking his head and getting to work helping his friend stabilize the new support beams, while the children played close by in the back of the pickup truck.

...

It was just past sunset when Carol and Daryl arrived back at the farm. They dropped off some of the supplies at storage where Jerry was waiting to unload everything. They took the pharmacy and healthcare supplies to the infirmary, where Tara met them with a haggard to relieved smile, informing them that Denise was feeling better and the doctor should be back to work in a few days.

Tara had come along just before Denise. She'd been traveling with her sister and niece after their father's death, and they'd gotten caught in a herd. She'd made it out, but her sister and niece didn't, and she'd been living with the guilt ever since. It wasn't until Denise came along that she really started to let herself open up and feel love despite the guilt she still felt for surviving when her family hadn't.

She had become a part of the family. Just as Negan, Lucy and Henry had. Just as Jerry, Nabila and their children had. Just as the many others who'd sought sanctuary behind the walls of the thriving little farm had.

As she walked hand in hand with her husband toward Merle's house, she took in a deep breath, smiling as the cool evening air filled her lungs.

"You ok?" Daryl asked quietly, giving her hand a squeeze.

"I'm good," she said with a little laugh, blushing. He couldn't see it in the darkness, but he could tell from the way she looked down and ducked her head a little. "I like when it's just us out there."

"Don't like worryin' about you."

"You know you don't have to do that."

"I know," he said quietly. "You can take care of yourself. I get that. But I'm still gonna worry anyway."

"I know," she smiled. She looked up as they neared Merle's house. It was dark, and Daryl stopped walking.

"Hey." She turned to face him. "C'mere." She stepped toward him and he bent to kiss her. She smiled against his lips, and Daryl pulled his arms around her. "Love you so much."

"Love you," she whispered.

"Love our family. Lydia. Luke." He put his hand on her stomach. "Already love this baby." She started to protest, but Daryl hushed her with a kiss. "I think ya protested just as much when you was pregnant with Luke. I remember. Remember every bit of it." Carol made a face, but her shoulders slumped. She knew he was right. She brought her hand down to put over his.

"I never thought we'd have this," Carol said softly. "I mean, in the beginning. When we first met? Who would have thought the two of us would end up here, leading this place, raising our kids?"

"Glad we're here," Daryl said with a little nod. "Let's go get our kids."

"Like hell you will," Merle called, stepping out of the darkness in his house and onto the front porch. "Just got the little ankle biters to sleep. You leave 'em here with Uncle Merle. Go enjoy one more night of peace and quiet, lovebirds. Just close your goddamn windows so the rest of us don't have to hear it."

Daryl snorted, pulling his arms tighter around his wife, and she laughed, her shoulders shaking against his.

"They alright?" Daryl asked.

"Pains in the asses, more like it."

"We can take them, Merle. Thanks for watching them."

"Leave 'em be. Might be pains in the asses, but I'm their uncle. I can handle 'em."

"I think he's turned into a big softy," Carol whispered, as Daryl nuzzled his nose against her cheek.

"Run go ok?" Merle asked, crossing his arms against his chest.

"Yeah."

"No trouble?"

"Nah. In and out. Easy," Daryl offered. Merle looked up at the sky.

"Must've gone a ways out then. You been gone for hours."

"We stopped to rest," Carol replied with a grin. Unbeknownst to Merle, Daryl reached and gave Carol's ass a little squeeze.

"That what they call it these days? Get on home, you two."

"Thanks again, Merle," Carol smiled, tugging on Daryl's hand and leading him on toward home.

"Yeah, yeah," Merle muttered, heading into the house and being mindful not to let the screen door slam behind him.

"He's a good uncle," Carol said with a little laugh, nudging Daryl's shoulder with her own. "Who knew?"

"Yeah. Wait'll he finds out he's gonna have another ankle biter to chase around.

"I don't want anybody to know. Not until we know for sure," Carol insisted.

"Won't say nothin', Daryl promised. Carol narrowed her eyes at him. "What? I promise."

"Alright," Carol replied with a laugh, taking his hand again as they started up the steps to the porch. Halfway up, she stopped.

"What's wrong?"

"Damn it. I am gonna have to potty train this one, aren't I?" Daryl snorted then, and he pulled his arm around her waist.

"If it's a boy, I'll do it."

"Thank you," Carol giggled.

"But it ain't, so yeah, it's gonna be you."

"Ass," she laughed, swatting him on the behind.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading and for all the wonderful feedback! Please keep it coming. It's very much appreciated!_


	30. It's a Date

Chapter 30: It's a Date

Carol cried out softly as she crumpled the sheets between her fingers. Her head was thrown back over the side of the bed, and her hair hung in damp strings as her thighs trembled on either side of Daryl's head. His tongue slid against her sensitive skin. He was doing that thing with his thumbs against the inside of her thighs that drove her crazy, and each flick of his tongue over her clit brought her closer to the edge.

"Daryl," she panted, squeezing her eyes shut as he pushed two fingers inside of her. "Fuck. Daryl…"

"C'mon, sweetheart," he growled, pressing kisses to the inside of her thighs. "Come for me." He gently crooked his fingers inside of her in a come-hither motion, and then he was sucking her clit again, until she clamped down on his fingers and rocked her hips against his face. Her body trembled through the orgasm, and when he stopped touching her, she let out a languid sigh and pressed damp kisses to her hip.

"Jesus," she panted, running her fingers through her hair as Daryl tugged at her hips and slid her back up to a comfortable position where they lay sideways against the mattress. He crawled up alongside her, spooning up against her from behind. He pressed soft kisses to the back of her neck and between her shoulders, and his hand moved up her side and up to one breast, gently rolling the sensitive nipple between his fingers. She gasped and bit her lip, and Daryl chuckled against her hair. "Better."

"What?" Daryl snorted, as Carol's shoulders shook with laughter against his chest.

"That half-hearted attempt in the bath this morning?" she snickered. "What was that? I've seen more enthusiasm from you when you brush your teeth."

"Was thinkin' 'bout somethin'," he muttered.

"You had a wet, naked woman with her mouth around your cock, and you were thinking about something else? I'd be offended if you weren't already hard against my ass right now." She reached behind her, between them, stroking his cock as he pressed kisses to the side of her neck.

"Wasn't awake yet. Was thinkin' 'bout a dream I had, s'all."

"Must've been some dream."

"Can't remember it," he laughed. "M'sorry."

"Well, bad sex aside…" she teased.

"Bad?" he asked. Carol giggled. "Hey, I ain't as young as I used to be. Gotta give me time to wake up. Wasn't bad, neither. We both got somethin' out of it." He thrust his hips against her, and she gasped when his cock slipped against her folds. She moaned softly, and he squeezed her breast in time with the pumps of his hips.

"You're certainly up now," she laughed, as Daryl gently bit her shoulder and guided himself inside. She let out a thick sigh as he filled her completely, and she closed her eyes, rolling her head back against his shoulder as he slowly rocked his hips against her ass. She was hot and wet and clenching around him when he slid his hand down her stomach and between her legs, teasing her sensitive clit. She groaned, reaching her hand up behind her, sliding her hand against his neck and into the back of his hair. He turned her face toward him and captured her lips in a slow, soft kiss before nipping at her bottom lip and giving it a tug.

He picked up the pace then, thrusting into her as she draped her leg over his and rolled slightly, burying her face against the mattress and gripping the mattress. He held one arm around her waist beneath her breasts, and the other teased her sensitive skin as he thrust harder and faster. When her walls clenched around him again, he closed his eyes and buried his groans against her neck. And when he felt a heavy, satisfied breath leave her chest, he let go, spilling into her with an exhausted, satisfied little growl.

He pulled out of her, and she turned over to face him. They stare at one another, both waiting for the breath to return to their lungs, both starry eyed and sweaty. They grinned at each other, red-faced like it was the first time all over again, and then he leaned in to kiss her.

"Ain't never bad sex. Not with us," Daryl panted, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. "Just good sex. And _real_ good sex." Carol smiled then, curling her arms around his neck. They lay together for a while, just kissing and stroking one another, enjoying the quiet of the morning before life and responsibilities came knocking.

When Lydia was a baby, finding time to be intimate was easier. But when she got older, started escaping her crib, started crawling into their bed at night, they had to get creative. They always found time for each other, even if it was just a quick fuck before bed or in the morning, and sometimes Merle would watch Lydia just to give them a little time together. And then Luke came along. Luke was a whole other personality all together. He had his days and nights mixed up for nearly the first six months of his life. He was a happy baby, like Lydia, but he was demanding.

Now that he was older and thriving in the toddler stage of his life, he was still demanding, but he was more independent. He wasn't underfoot much, either. He spent a lot of his time irritating his big sister by following her around. But she was fiercely protective of him and once nearly got into a fight with Henry when he knocked Luke down by accident. It was then that Carol and Daryl had to sit her down and have a talk with her about the difference between accident and on purpose.

Life wasn't perfect, but most days, it was as close as it could get considering they were surviving in a dying world while the dead constantly beat on their walls looking to devour them all.

"Can we just stay here all day?" Carol asked, curling into him as they lay sprawled across the mattress.

"Wish we could," he murmured. "Gotta go help Jerry and that kid from Decatur. What's his name?"

"The new one?" Carol asked.

"Mmm."

"David."

"Yeah. Gonna have to bring up more water for the crops. Ain't had rain in two weeks."

"We'll be ok," Carol murmured softly. "Right?"

"Yeah. Still got plenty of bottled water for drinkin'. Just makin' sure the crops stay watered…" His voice trailed off, and he ran his fingers through his hair.

"It'll rain sooner or later," Carol offered with a little smile. Their silence was broken by a scratch at the bedroom door, followed by a whine. Daryl grunted and kissed Carol once more before pulling himself out of bed and tugging on his clothes for the day. Carol curled up under the covers and watched as Daryl crossed the room and opened the door. Dog perked up and wagged his tail, hurrying down the stairs to wait by the front door for Daryl to let him out.

Carol lay back for a few minutes, listening to Daryl's footsteps creaking on the stairs. But when she heard stirring from Luke's room, she knew it was time to get up and face the day.

She dressed quickly and then went to check on her boy, who was sitting up in his bed, his hair a messy mop on top of his head.

"Good morning, sweet boy," Carol greeted him, leaning down to scoop him up in her arms and kiss his nose. He giggled.

"Mama. Pancakes!"

"You want pancakes? Oh, how about eggs?"

"Pancakes!" he insisted. "Pwease, Mama?"

"Oh, since you asked so nicely." She snuggled him close, and he rested his sleepy head against her shoulder for only a moment, before he was fighting for his independence and squirming to be let down. She put him down, and he scurried out the door, right for the stairs. A flood of panic washed over her for a moment, but when she stepped out in the hall, she breathed a sigh of relief that Daryl had remembered to put the baby gate back when he went to let Dog out.

"We go down, Mama?"

"Hold your horses, silly. You have to potty?" Luke looked at his mother for a moment, and then his eyes went wide before he scurried off toward the bathroom. Carol laughed softly to herself before opening Lydia's bedroom door.

"Hi, Mommy," Lydia said with a frown. She was sitting up in her bed with her doll clutched in her arms.

"Hi, baby. What's wrong?"

"I don't feel good, Mommy." Carol knelt down by Lydia's bed and placed her hand against the girl's forehead. Concern creased her brow. "Well, you don't have a fever. Is it your tummy?"

"Uh-huh." Lydia brushed her dark hair out of her face and lay back against her pillow.

"Well, are you hungry? Maybe that's why your tummy hurts?"

"No, Mommy. I'm not hungry."

"Okay, baby. You rest a while, and I'll check on you after breakfast." She smoothed back Lydia's hair and gave her an encouraging smile, but when she stepped out in the hallway, her smile faded, and she glanced down at Luke who was now standing at the gate. He looked up at her with an ornery grin, and she sighed.

"You're gonna play downstairs today, ok?"

"I play with Lyddie!"

"No. Your sister's feeling bad. We want her to rest so she'll feel better, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Alright." She reached out for Luke to take her hand, and he placed his little hand in hers. She slid back the baby gate, and the two of them took the stairs down together. She looked down at him, watching as he concentrated hard with each step, his little tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth, his brows furrowed in focus.

Once downstairs, Carol got Luke settled in with some toys and headed for the kitchen, where she could smell pancakes cooking. She felt nauseated the second the smell hit her, and she paused in the doorway. Daryl heard her coming and turned to see her face turn a funny shade somewhere between white and green. She was almost gray.

"You alright?" he asked. She put one hand over her stomach and the other at her mouth, and a moment later, she was making a beeline for the back door. She threw it open, and the next thing Daryl knew, Carol was heaving up the contents of her stomach over the railing of the back porch.

He hurried out to her, and when she turned and wiped her mouth, she groaned.

"You ok?"

"Yeah," she muttered. "I'm going to go see if Denise is seeing patients today. Lydia's feeling bad, too."

"Don't think you're feelin' that way for the same reason," Daryl pointed out. "You were fine 'til ya walked in the kitchen. I know my cookin' ain't the best, but…"

"Funny," Carol snorted. "I'll see if she's got anything she can give me for Lydia. And I'll go for myself, too. I'll be back before you have to go help Jerry and David."

"A'right," Daryl murmured. "You gonna eat first?"

"No. God, I do need to brush my teeth, though." She made a face. "Luke's playing in the living room. Please make sure he lets Lydia rest."

"I will. I'll check on her after." He sniffed the air. "Shit. Pancakes."

"Pancakes," Carol offered with a weak smile. She followed him back into the kitchen where he was scraping into the trash the burnt remnants of what was a decent pancake in the beginning. "I'll be back soon."

...

"It's going around," Denise groaned. "I'm feeling a lot better, and I'm sure Lydia will be in a few days. Just give her a little of this every six hours. She'll be feeling better in a couple of days. She's not going to like the taste, so you might let her drink it down with cider or something."

"Thank you," Carol said with a tired smile.

"I'll check on her in a couple of days."

"Great." She cleared her throat. "So, you haven't told me to take any of this, so…I'm guessing I don't have the flu."

"Not a chance. Tell your husband he wins, but make sure you lay it on thick that he did this to you. Extra foot rubs. Nothing wrong with that." Denise smiled and handed Carol a bottle of prenatal vitamins.

"This is really happening?"

"I'm surprised you didn't know," Denise murmured. "You're at least eight weeks. If we can get enough juice from the solar panels, I'll do an ultrasound when you come by next week, and we can get a good measurement, but you're definitely getting close to second trimester territory. You're still having periods?"

"I spotted for a few days last month. I guess I just didn't…" She shook her head. "Oh, I knew. Who am I kidding? I just didn't want to get my hopes up or anything. I thought maybe it was the change instead, or…"

"You're too young for that. What are you. Forty?"

"Forty-five," Carol pointed out, running her fingers through her hair. "My mother was forty-seven when she went through it."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything. It can, but…I don't see any reason why you won't have a healthy baby. Just take these prenatals, and come see me next week. Hopefully Nabila will have finally had that kid already." Carol smiled a little, and she nodded tiredly. She turned to leave, but then she stopped, turning back to Denise.

"You know what? A few years ago, the idea of having another baby was terrifying. Sophia was twelve when she died. It'd been nearly sixteen years since I gave birth when Luke came along. In the beginning, Daryl and I were so careful. We didn't want to risk anything. And then we decided that there wasn't a future without a few risks. And now we have this community. Our kids are growing and getting stronger every day. And I have a _doctor_ that can monitor my pregnancy. But I'm still terrified."

"That's normal. It was normal before, it's even more normal now. But everything points to a healthy pregnancy, Carol. Just try to enjoy it. Like I said. Extra foot rubs."

"I'll keep that in mind," Carol laughed. "Thank you."

She left the infirmary with her prenatal vitamins in one hand and Lydia's medicine in the other. By the time she reached the house, the aroma of breakfast had all but cleared out. She found Daryl cleaning up in the kitchen while Luke continued to play in the living room. When he heard the clatter of pills when she put the bottle down on the counter, he turned from where he stood at the sink and wiped his hands on the towel.

"Well, I've got Lydia's meds." She tapped on the top of the bottle. Then she tapped on the other. "And some for me. You were right. Of course you were right." She sighed, and her lower lip trembled, and Daryl quickly crossed the room to pull her into an embrace.

"Hey. It's ok. Are…are you alright? M'sorry if ya didn't want…"

"I do want," she sniffled. "I'm fine. I'm just…scared."

"I know, sweetheart," he murmured, kissing her softly. "It's gonna be fine. Right?"

"Yeah. Denise seems positive." She let out a little laugh. "We're having another baby." She took a deep breath. "And I'm already exhausted."

"Come sit down. Can I get ya anything for breakfast?"

"No," she chuckled, letting him pull out a chair for her. She sat down, and he knelt in front of her. "I'll eat when I feel a little better. I promise."

"I can stay home today."

"Oh, no. Jerry's wife's about to give birth, but you don't see him staying home, do you? Why? Because he's literally three minutes away from her at all times. So don't worry about me. I'm fine. I'll be here with Luke and Lyddie, and we'll see you when you get home. I've done this before. Twice before. I can do this. I'm not incapable of taking care of myself." Daryl chuckled then, and he nodded. Of course she was right, but she was the one doing all the work. He wanted her to know that he'd be there for her for whatever she needed.

"I love you," he murmured, leaning up to kiss her. She smiled against his lips and gently curled her fingers at the nape of his neck.

"I love you, too." She kissed him again, and when he got up to head out of the kitchen, Carol cleared her throat. "P.S. You. Me. Foot rub. Tonight. Say, after the kids go to bed?"

"We're schedulin'…foot rubs?"

"Amongst other things," she teased. Daryl thought for a moment, and when he saw Carol raise an eyebrow, he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

"It's a date."

_Author's Note: Thanks again for reading, guys! Please let me know what you think of the latest chapter. Feedback is very much appreciated and encouraged. _


	31. The Herd

Chapter 31: The Herd

Daryl grunted when he placed two more buckets of water into the back of the pickup. He wiped the sweat from his brow and took a ladle full of water for his troubles. He'd arrived at the wells to be informed by Jerry that David had been sent to help take care of a small herd that had built up outside the walls overnight.

"You alright over there, man?" Jerry asked, dipping his hands into the water and splashing some onto his face.

"Yeah. Just fuckin' hot as shit out here," Daryl muttered, glancing up at the sky.

"Maybe it'll rain soon. You know what they say. The hotter it gets, the longer we go without rain, we're due for a big, nasty storm."

"Maybe," Daryl grunted, squinting into the sunlight. "Not today."

"Everything okay at home?" Jerry asked, leaning back against the side of the old truck. Daryl narrowed his eyes at him.

"Why'd you ask that?"

"Just saw Carol walking over from the infirmary today."

"Oh," Daryl offered with a nod. "Yeah. Lydia's come down with a bug. Probably the same thing Denise had."

"Yeah, my oldest was puking like…_Exorcist _style a couple nights ago. Everybody's good now though."

"Good. Shit. Never thought a fuckin' flu bug was gonna be on my list of worries again. Out there, it ain't nothin'. Ya might be shittin' your pants and pukin' your guts out, but the dead don't give a shit. They'll eat you just the same." Daryl wiped the sweat from his forehead again and groaned.

"Let's take a break," Jerry offered. "Fifteen minutes? I want to check on Nabila. She was having contractions this morning." His proud papa smile broke through, and Daryl chuckled.

"Got your hands full already."

"No more than you," Jerry laughed. "It's the best though. I swear, I gotta give Nabila credit. She's with 'em all day. Well, most of the day. Sometimes, I miss 'em. Sometimes I get home and just wanna hold my kids and tell 'em stories, and she goes and takes a nap. It works for us. You and Carol though? I don't know how you manage it. I guess having Merle around helps. You two do so much around here. I don't know where you find the time to make a family, let alone raise one."

"Always time," Daryl murmured. "Ain't never gonna go a day without seein' my family again. Not on purpose, anyway." He took another drink of water and ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. "Fifteen minutes. Meet you back here?"

"Cool," Jerry agreed with a nod, clapping Daryl on the back before heading off toward home to see his wife.

Daryl got in the truck and drove it over toward the garden, where Tara, Merle and a couple others started unloading the buckets to use for watering. As Daryl was getting ready to get back in the truck, a shout from the front gates startled everyone.

"Hey! We got a breech!" It was David from the Decatur group. Daryl quickly got back into the truck, and Merle hopped in with him. A few of the survivors started scrambling toward their homes, while others hurried off toward the front to see if they could help.

Of course, Daryl and Merle arrived first, to find David desperately trying to close the gates, while a dozen or so hands in various states of decay twitched and scratched bloodied stubs of fingers against the rusting metal.

"The hell happened?" Daryl bit out. David managed to get the gate closed with help and then stumbled backward, panting while Daryl slid the lock into place.

"There were just a couple on this side. I thought I could take 'em out real quick."

"Let me guess. Ya made a racket and rang the dinner bell for all their friends," Merle growled. "The hell is wrong with you, Dusty?"

"David," David stammered.

"Whatever," Merle snapped, pushing the kid back. Daryl got between the two, and he grabbed David by the front of the shirt.

"You never open that gate unless you're told. You got that?"

"I was trying to help."

"Yeah, and look what good it did," Daryl spat. "I got a wife and kids behind these walls. You pull that shit again, your ass is haulin' water from the wells by yourself for the next month. Got it?"

"Sorry," David said quietly. He looked terrified in that moment, like one wrong move would get him kicked out of the community. Daryl sensed the young man's fears, and he took a deep breath. Despite his anger and frustration, he knew the kid was trying to prove himself. He wasn't very skilled at hunting, and he was a shitty shot, and he was even worse on supply runs, because he was clumsy. He was trying to prove himself. It was obvious. So, Daryl bit back a string of expletives and other angry words and took a deep breath to cool off.

"Just go help at the garden. They could use an extra set of hands." David swallowed hard but nodded and headed off for the gardens. The gate creaked and groaned and wobbled as the herd grew larger outside the gates.

"They ain't getting' in, baby brother," Merle promised. "They're bound to get bored and wander off eventually."

"You ever know a walker to get bored?" Daryl asked. Merle thought for a second. "So long as they hear us in here, they ain't goin' nowhere."

"Gonna have to use the West gate for supply runs 'til the herd thins out," Merle said with a little shrug. "They don't gather up so many at a time over there." Daryl nodded.

"Still, they stay out there too long, it's gonna be a problem. We got this drought, and folks have been getting' sick." He shook his head. "Don't like it." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked off toward the house. "I want someone walking the perimeter at all hours. We'll set up shifts. Someone stays at the gate."

"We always have someone at the gate," Merle reminded him.

"I want 'em armed, and I want 'em payin' attention. No more playin' cards or readin' 'til the threat's gone. Tomorrow, I'm takin' the truck out the West gate and around, lure some of 'em away."

"Good thinkin'. Loud music, lead 'em off toward Peachtree City or Senoia. Then cut the music and hightail it back home."

"You with me on this?" Daryl asked.

"Hell yeah. Been a while since I cheated death," he grinned. "It'll be good for the 'ole ticker to get the blood rushin' again."

...

"Daddy, can we see Lydia tomorrow?" Henry asked, yawning as his father knelt next to his bed.

"She's been sick, kiddo," Negan said quietly, tousling the boy's hair. "Maybe in a few days, ok?"

"I miss her," he sighed. Negan grinned.

"I'm sure she misses you too, buddy. But we've gotta let her rest so she can get better faster. You understand?" Henry nodded and yawned again. "Alright, you get some sleep." He got up and moved to turn out the lantern on Henry's bedside table.

They'd gotten the electricity working for the most part, but it was still a work in progress and cutting in and out. Tonight, it was out, so they were improvising.

When he reached the door with his own lantern, Henry sat up in his bed.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Are the monsters going to get us?"

"What?" Negan asked.

"I heard Merle say there was a bunch of 'em out there."

"Hey," Negan murmured. "Who am I?"

"You're my Dad."

"That's right. And what does your Dad do?"

"He keeps me safe. And he keeps Mommy safe. But Mommy keeps me safe, too."

"That's exactly right. See, if those monsters got through the walls, they'd have to get through me and through your mama to get to you. And are we gonna let that happen?" Henry shook his head. "No. That's not gonna happen. So you close your eyes and dream good stuff, 'cause the monsters aren't gonna touch you."

"Ok," Henry said softly.

"You don't sound convinced, son. Those monsters. Are they gonna touch you?"

"No?" Henry offered with a little shrug. Negan chuckled.

"What was that? One more time. Are those monsters gonna touch you, Henry?"

"No!" Henry growled, getting a laugh out of his dad.

"That's my boy. Dream good dreams, alright?" Henry snuggled back up under his blanket. "Love you, boy." Negan shut the door and headed across the hall to find Lucy reading by candle light. She put down her book on the bedside table when he stepped into the room and shut the door.

"Is he asleep?"

"He's on his way," Negan promised. "You look gorgeous." She smiled, her hair flowing down her shoulders and down her back. "What's the special occasion?" She glared at him, and he smirked. "I'm just jokin' baby. You always look gorgeous." He sat down on the bed and leaned in to kiss her.

"I was thinking," she said softly.

"Here we go," Negan teased.

"Shut your mouth," she laughed. She put her hands on either side of his face and offered him a smile. "I love you."

"Me too."

"And I love Henry."

"Again. Me, too."

"I know we talked about it a couple of years ago, but I thought maybe we could revisit the conversation." Negan narrowed his eyes at her. "Maybe it's because Nabila's pregnant. Or with all the little ones running around. Negan, I want to give Henry a brother or sister." Negan's expression quickly darkened, and he brought his hands away from her shoulders, placing them on the mattress on either side of her hips. "Don't look so sad."

"I don't wanna talk about this, Luce," he said quietly.

"Well, I do. Babe, I know how you felt about it then, but, you're so good with Henry. And I see you with Lydia and Luke. You're an amazing dad, and I just want to give Henry a sibling. I don't want him to be all alone in the world if something happens…"

"Stop." He got up off the bed, running his fingers through his dark hair. He began to pace, and Lucy sighed.

"You really don't want another one?"

"I don't want _you_ to put yourself through that again. Christ, Lucille, you almost _died_ having Henry."

"But I didn't," she argued, getting up and standing in front of him. She put her hand on the stump where her arm used to be. "I'd lost a lot of blood. I'd been bitten. I was lucky, and Carol was there. But now? Now we have a real doctor. Babe, I feel good about this. I want to try…"

"No!" Negan snapped. "I'm not talking about this."

"We _have_ to talk about this," Lucy insisted. "I want another baby, Negan. I can't help it. I do. I thought when Henry got older, I wouldn't want to do it all over again, but I do." She smiled. "I really do."

"I sat by your bed for days with a newborn in my arms. And all I could think about was if you died, he wasn't gonna have anybody. Because if you died, I would've died right along with you. I looked at that boy, and all I knew was that he deserved to have you, because without you, I'd fuck everything up."

"You wouldn't," Lucy sighed. "You're a great father."

"Maybe now," Negan offered, shaking his head. "I got here because of you. I got us here. I love Henry. Don't get me wrong. But you…you've been my world since the day I saw you. If you died, I…" He swallowed hard and turned around. "I'm never going through that again. I'm never putting _you_ through that again."

"Negan…"

"No. You wanted to talk about it. We talked about it. It's done." He turned then, and he heard a soft cry leave Lucy's lips. He turned his head, but he didn't look her in the eye. "I'm sorry. I love you, but I'm sorry. I can't." He started for the hall, grabbing his bat from the corner before he reached the door.

"Where are you going?" Lucy asked, voice shaking as tears pooled in her eyes.

"I'm taking first perimeter patrol tonight. I'm protecting our family." With that, he turned and left, Lucy's cries echoing down the stairs with each step he took. He paused at the front door, looking back up to where her soft cries shook with ragged breaths in the darkness, and then he headed outside into the night, letting the cool, fresh breeze fill his lungs and ease the anxiety that had coiled up inside of him in the last few minutes.

Lucy and Henry were his life, and he quite liked that life. He loved waking with her every morning and making breakfast and listening to Henry yammer on and on about his plans for the day. He loved every minute of it, but he couldn't risk his wife's life again. He knew what she wanted, but he just couldn't give it to her. He couldn't let her take the chance of dying and leaving him and Henry all alone. He knew it was selfish, but he also knew that if he lost Lucy, he'd lose himself. And that wasn't an option.

With a shaking breath, he propped his barbed wire-covered bat up against his shoulder and took off toward the front gate to start his patrol.

...

Daryl groaned and stretched out on the bed, hair still wet and skin still warm from the bath. He folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about tomorrow and how exactly he and Merle were going to lure the herd away. It was a daunting task to say the least, but he knew if they drove slow enough and played the music loud enough, they could get most, if not all of the walkers directed elsewhere and get back home safely before lunchtime. Still, things could always go wrong. This, he knew from experience.

Carol sighed softly when she slipped under the covers, joining Daryl on the bed.

"How's she feelin'?" Daryl asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly with his knuckles.

"She's sleeping. She kept a little soup down. She's feeling better, I think." She gently ran her fingers through Daryl's hair, smiling softly and kissing the corner of his mouth. "You'll be careful tomorrow?"

"Promise," he nodded. "We've lured walkers off before."

"This many, though? Merle said there were a lot."

"Might not be half of 'em there come morning. We gotta protect this place."

"Mmm," Carol murmured, yawning and rolling to lay on her back. "I know. Won't stop me from worrying."

"Always come back to you, don't I?" he asked. She smiled, nodding a little, and he rolled onto his side to look at her. He put his hand against her stomach, and she smiled, curling her fingers around his.

"We should get some sleep," Carol whispered. "Big day tomorrow."

"Hmm," Daryl murmured, pressing his lips against hers. She smiled against his lips, and he chuckled, kissing down her jaw and neck.

"Daryl?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"We'll sleep real good after…"

"Oh yeah?" Carol giggled, as Daryl crawled over her.

"Mmmhmm," he murmured between kisses. A little laugh escaped her lips, which soon faded into a soft, satisfied moan.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading, guys! Please let me know what you think. Feedback is greatly appreciated!_


	32. The Long Night

Chapter 32: The Long Night

Carol was in no way, shape or form a physician. But she'd assisted Denise more than a few times in the infirmary. She'd been there for each of Nabila's children's births, and she'd helped out with patching up cuts and gunshot wounds. She didn't consider herself medically skilled in any way, but she was glad she'd picked up enough knowledge along the way to help out in a pinch.

So when Jerry came pounding on the door in the middle of the night, practically waking the whole community, Carol knew right away Nabila was having the baby. It wasn't the first time she'd been woken up in the night for a birth, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last.

"How's she doing?" Carol asked, tugging on her shoes as she sat on the bottom of the stairs. Jerry paced frantically while Daryl stood, eyes heavy from sleep with a fussy Luke in his arms.

"She's good. She's calm. I'm a freakin' mess."

"Jerry?" Carol asked. "Who's looking after your kids?"

"Uh…Tara's got them entertained. Denise said she's gonna need your help." He looked to Daryl. "That's not good, right?"

"Denise always calls Carol, remember? Ain't a lot of folks have experience with this kinda thing these days. She just wants all the help she can get. Relax, man. It's gonna be alright." He clapped Jerry on the shoulder. "Nabila's tough. She's been through this twice before."

"Like a champ," Jerry added.

"Right. She knows what to do. The doc knows what to do. Carol knows what she's goin' to do. So it's gonna be alright. It's good. Right?"

"Right." Jerry took a deep breath. A big grin spread across his face.

"Dude, I'm gonna be a daddy again!"

"Go on back home, Jerry. I'll be there soon." Carol nodded toward the door, and Jerry took off. Carol moaned softly when she bent down to lace up her boots.

"You ok?" Daryl asked, kneeling down and adjusting Luke in his arms. Carol gave him a tired smile and nodded her head.

"I'm fine. Just a twinge in my back. I get them even when I'm not pregnant. Don't worry." She leaned forward to kiss him.

"You should be in bed sleepin'."

"Babies don't care about that. And when they decide it's time, it's time." She smiled, and Daryl helped her stand, and he gave her hand a squeeze. "I'll be home as soon as Nabila and the baby are settled." She leaned in again and kissed him before pressing a kiss to Luke's cheek. "Go get some sleep. You'll need the rest to look after the kids when I sleep all day tomorrow." Daryl snorted at that, and Carol grinned before hurrying out the door.

...

Negan had made three trips around the perimeter. So far, the only excitement he'd had had been in the form of Jerry rushing around waking up half the damn farm because his wife was about to pop out yet another kid.

It was quiet again, save for the cricket chirps and the occasional lonesome howl of a coyote. As Negan walked about, he swung his bat, listening to the _whoosh _of air passing over wood and wire. He switched it from shoulder to shoulder, hand to hand, mindlessly thinking of anything and everything he could to keep his mind off the argument he'd just had with Lucy. Really, it had been one sided. She wanted something he couldn't give her. Well, he could give it to her, but he wouldn't.

As exciting as Jerry made fatherhood for the third time sound, he hadn't had to watch his wife nearly bleed to death, so ghostly pale and weak and closer to death than she'd ever been. It was an imagine Negan couldn't forget, and he certainly had tried.

He thought of Daryl and Carol and their little family. He remembered, way back when Henry was tiny, he admired them so much. They had a routine down with Lydia, and they made it look easy. Of course, the more he got to know them, the more he realized they were just winging it every day. Parenthood wasn't easy. Negan loved Henry, but parenting him wasn't easy. He was as mischievous as he was sweet, and he had more energy than Negan ever remembered having as a kid.

And Carol and Daryl had brought Luke into the picture, and everything went well. Carol was a trooper through her pregnancy, and Negan had often saw that wistful look in Lucy's eyes whenever Carol came by. He'd always tried to ignore it, to pretend he didn't see her longing for another child. But it was difficult to ignore when Luke was finally born and Carol would bring him for a visit. Watching Lucy with a little one again was beautiful, a snapshot memory he would likely never forget. But it made him feel guilty, because as he watched her desire for another child grow, his desire to keep his family intact, healthy, alive grew more.

Now, he worried he was going to lose her anyway.

As he approached the gate again, he noticed movement. Then he heard the snarls. He quickly directed the beam of his flashlight toward the gate, only to see a figure rushing away. The gate appeared to be shut and locked, so he focused his attention on the retreating figure.

"Hey!" he hissed, rushing to catch up to the running, cloaked figure. "Hey, what the fuck?" He reached out, grabbing hold of cloak and tugging back. The young man struggled and wrenched away from Negan's grasp. But he didn't run this time. He just pulled the cloak tighter around himself. "David? What the fuck are you doing? Didn't you get garden duty or some shit after that stunt you pulled at the gates this morning?"

"Yeah. I was just…"

"You were just what?" Negan asked. "I'm gonna have to tell Daryl about this."

"Please. Don't." The young man was pale, out of breath, and now he was sweating. "Please just…I just…wanted to help."

"Did you go out there?" Negan asked, reaching down to pick up his flashlight and bat.

"No. No, sir," David insisted. "I was just checking the gate."

"It's fine. Now you got those dead bastards all riled up. You hear that?" He paused, and the raspy snarls filled the night air. "Jesus, you gotta pick your fuckin' moments to be a goddamn hero. This ain't it, buddy. You wanna kiss Dixon's ass, you're gonna have to stay away from the fucking gate, man." David looked away, his face paling further if it was possible. "Shit. Look. I won't tell him if you stop acting like a dumbass. Deal?" David simply nodded his head vaguely, and Negan ran his hand through his hair. "Fuck, kid. Look. Take it from me. Don't fuck with those things. I know we've all been safe and comfy in here for a good, long while, but those things are just as vicious and deadly as they have been since this whole thing started. All you are is a goddamn lunchbox."

"Can I go now?"

"Oh, you can go. Next time I see you snooping around the gates, I'm gonna let Dixon teach you a lesson. And I don't mean Daryl. He's the nice one. Yeah. Merle? His bite's worse than his bark." David flinched and looked like he was going to throw up. "Get outta here. Get some sleep kid." David turned and rushed off, and Negan shook his head. "Stupid fucking kid."

He turned and started his next lap around the perimeter.

...

Daryl woke with a jerk the moment he felt the mattress move. He cracked one eye open but couldn't see anything in the darkness.

"Time is it?" he murmured.

"We have a few hours before dawn," Carol whispered.

"That was fast."

"She was already pushing when I got there. Baby came soon after."

"Nabila ok?"

"Nabila's on cloud nine. Another girl."

"Yeah?" Daryl asked, as he pulled his arm around Carol's shoulder.

"Mmm. Looks just like Jerry." Daryl snorted.

"Oh. Poor kid."

"Hey, Jerry happens to be quite handsome."

"M'just sayin'. If I was a girl, the last person I'd wanna look like would be my daddy. Let's just hope this next one looks like you."

"Still convinced we're having a girl, huh?" Carol asked, as Daryl moved his hand beneath the blankets and placed it on her stomach.

"Mmmhmm. And she's gonna have her mama's eyes, too. And your nose. Probably that smart ass mouth of yours, too."

"You like my smart ass mouth."

"Yeah, but on our kid? I don't think so." Carol snickered at that, and she sighed softly. They were quiet for a moment. "So. Jerry?"

"What?"

"Ya think he's handsome?"

"Oh, Daryl," Carol sighed.

"I got anything to worry about?" he teased.

"Not anymore. He broke my heart. Our affair was short but passionate," Carol teased.

"So long as it's over," Daryl laughed, as Carol peppered kisses to his jaw. "I love you."

"I love you," she whispered back, sliding her hand down his chest and over his stomach. Daryl chuckled, catching her wrist and stopping her before she could slide her hand down his pants.

"You ain't tired?" he asked.

"Dead on my feet," she laughed before kissing him again. "But, lucky for us, I can do this laying down." Daryl snorted then, but he let go of her hand and let her proceed, and it wasn't long before they were lost in one another, all cares tossed to the wayside.

_Author's Note: Please let me know what you think. Feedback is much appreciated and encouraged. _


	33. Calm Before

Chapter 33: Calm Before

"You been out here all night?" Merle asked, crossing the field to find Negan leaning against the wall, taking a quick break from what had felt like an endless patrol. Merle rubbed his hands together, and Negan nodded.

"Yeah. You my relief?"

"Yeah. Thought Tara was comin' out for the 2AM watch."

"Nah. I took a double. Told her to go home and get some sleep."

"Oh," Merle chuckled. "Trouble in paradise, huh? You and Lucy have a fight?"

"How the hell would you know that?" Negan asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh, my baby brother and Carol don't fight much, but I know when they piss each other off, one of 'em cools off by takin' an extra shift in the garden or at the wall or goin' on some stupid run that they ain't needed for. What happened?"

"Why the hell would I tell you? Matter of fact, why the hell do you care?" Negan asked.

"Hey, I ran outta good books to read. Humor me."

"It's nothing," Negan muttered with a shake of his head, looking off toward his place, where a light glow now shone from his bedroom window. Lucy must have woken up to use the bathroom or to check on Henry, he figured.

He pushed back off the wall and started walking again, slowly, with Merle walking right along with him.

"Well, whatever the fight's about, just give her what she wants. Don't need to have no lovers' quarrels goin' on when we got geeks tryin' to claw their way inside our happy home." He nodded toward the gates. "Just make her happy. Don't need no woman' poutin' 'round here."

"What the hell do you know anyway? You ever been married?"

"Christ, no," Merle laughed. "I was smart enough not to fall into that bear trap. But I know that sometimes the best thing to do is just to give her what she wants so she doesn't nag your ear off. You know you're gonna give in eventually, so stop bein' so goddamn stubborn. If I was stupid enough to get yanked down the aisle and my wife was as beautiful as Lucy, I'd give her whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted." He smacked his lips suggestively. Negan wasn't laughing.

"Listen, Dixon, why don't you leave your opinions out of my marriage. Did it sound like I was asking for it?"

"Maybe," Merle said with a shrug. He looked up at the navy sky and took a deep breath. "Sun's gonna be comin' up soon. Why don't you go home, crawl in bed with her, tell her you love her. Then when the sun comes up, you can look at each other again and decide if the fight was worth it."

"That's…actually not a bad idea," Negan chuckled. "Wow, I guess you are good for something once in a while after all." He looked off toward the house again, and the light was still on in the bedroom. With a deep breath, he started across the lot toward home to talk to his wife.

...

Carol slept soundly for a few hours, but by the time the sun began to peek over the horizon, she was restless. When she cracked one eye open, she saw Daryl sleeping soundly at her side. He was on his back with one arm draped over his eyes. She couldn't help but smile.

The morning air was cool, and Carol pulled the blanket up over both of them. Daryl moaned softly in his sleep but didn't wake. He wasn't always a heavy sleeper. Neither was she, really. But he'd worked hard the day before, and she knew he just might sleep through breakfast.

She was thankful for him. She smiled, biting her lip as she thought about their last few years together. Even though the circumstances of getting separated from the group had been tragic, she could think of no better outcome than the one they'd ended up with. She often lay awake thinking of what might have happened had they reunited with the group. Would she and Daryl have still fallen in love? Of that, she was sure. Would they have acted on it? Of that, she wasn't sure at all.

He was a different man than the man she met at the quarry. He was a different man than the man at the Greene farm. And he was a different man than the man she slept with all those years ago when it was just the two of them, baby Lydia and Dog on the lonely little farm. The thing was, she looked back on every memory she had of Daryl and with Daryl, and she loved him even more. He'd come so far, and she was grateful that he'd been reunited with his brother and gotten a chance to have a part of his first family back. Even though she knew there were a lot of bad memories for him, she knew he enjoyed having his brother in his life.

Since their little home had grown into a functioning community, she and Daryl had become leaders, delegating to Merle and Negan and Lucy to help things run smoothly around the place. To think that this little place they'd found to stay warm and safe until they figured out their next move had turned into a home and a place to raise their children was still astonishing. It took her breath away at times. If it hadn't been for finding Lydia, they probably would've moved on without a second though. Because of her, they'd stayed put, they'd made a home, they'd found happiness and love with each other.

Carol sighed softly and slowly got out of bed. She tugged the blanket back over Daryl and pulled on a robe. She padded down the hall, first peeking into Luke's room to find him still sleeping. Next, she checked on Lydia, who was up already and holding a book in her lap, quietly sounding out the words she knew.

"Good morning, sweetie," Carol whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, Mommy," Lydia yawned. "Can we have breakfast?"

"Someone is feeling better," Carol laughed.

"Can I go over to Henry's to play?"

"We'll see," Carol smiled. "I'm glad you're feeling better, sweetheart." She kissed the top of Lydia's head and felt her forehead. Thankfully, the girl's color and temperature seemed to be back to normal. "Get dressed, baby. I'll go start breakfast."

"Okay, Mommy." Carol turned to leave the room, and once she got downstairs, she noticed Dog wasn't at the front door waiting like usual. Furrowing her brow, she turned to step into the kitchen, where she found him standing by the back door, rigid, eyes locked on the curtain-covered window.

"Dog? You want outside?" Dog didn't move. Instead, he let loose a low growl and bared his teeth. "What is it, boy?" She nudged Dog to the side. He growled softly and whined, and Carol felt like her heart was in her throat.

"Who's out there?" she called. No answer. She quickly peeked out the window but saw nothing. "Dog. Sit." Dog whined but did as she commanded. She hurried over to the fridge and stood on her tiptoes to reach the cabinet above it. She stretched until her fingers brushed over the cold steel of a pistol. She checked the chamber to find it was fully loaded, and with a steady hand, she reached for the lock on the door.

As soon as the door swung open, Dog leapt up and started whining again. The early morning air was cool and sweet, and there didn't appear to be any out and about quite yet. She was about to shut the door, when out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something cowering between the patio table and the wall of the house. She peered out into the early morning light and saw the messy blonde hair and little bare feet.

"Henry?" she asked. "Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" Dog came rushing out of the house then, and as soon as he saw Henry, he lowered his head and hurried over to lick his bare toes. "Dog. Back!" The dog yipped and moved back behind Carol, and she saw the boy jerk back in fear when she crouched down and reached out to touch his little foot. "Hey. It's ok. Henry, are you ok? Are you hurt?" He sniffled and shook his head. "Come here." She helped him up, and as soon as he was standing, she saw the blood spatter on his ripped shirt and sleep pants. Her hand moved to her chest, and she looked down at him. He looked up at her, his lower lip trembling. "Henry? Where's your mommy and daddy?"

"Something bad happened. I think my mommy's dead."


	34. Blood

Chapter 34: Blood

It was quiet. Too quiet. The morning breeze was cool and promised the first rain in quite some time. As the dark clouds rolled in, Carol shivered. The grass was still damp with dew when she and Daryl stepped foot onto Negan and Lucy's porch. The front door was wide open, a sure sign something wasn't right.

Daryl drew his crossbow, and Carol kept her fingers curled around her knife in her belt. Daryl stepped inside first, and when he nodded, Carol followed him inside.

"Negan?" Daryl called. "Lucy?" They turned toward the staircase, where streaks from bloody hands stained the white walls. "Shit."

"God," Carol murmured, turning toward the dining room. She gasped in surprise to see an arm sprawled in an unnatural angle just past the doorway. "Daryl." Daryl stepped in first, aiming his crossbow and he stepped around the pool of blood. Someone lay there, who, he couldn't tell right away. It was a man based on the clothing, but his face and head were so badly mangled, identifying him was difficult. And then they saw the weapon, lying in the pool of blood, glistening with blood and barbed wire. Negan's bat.

"Negan!" Daryl called again. There was blood all over the walls and the table. It couldn't have all been from one person. When Carol met Daryl's gaze, her heart sank.

Overhead, the ceiling creaked, and Daryl nodded toward the stairs. Together, they started climbing, following the bloody footprints on the steps and being mindful of the blood on the banister.

When they reached the top of the stairs, another pool of blood, with little, bare footprints and bigger boot prints lay drying just before the steps. Daryl carefully stepped around it and helped Carol around it so she wouldn't slip. And then they saw the light coming from the main bedroom at the end of the hall.

"Jesus," Daryl muttered. He nodded to Carol's knife. "Be ready for anything." They crept down the hall, peering into each room as they went. And when they finally reached the room at the end of the hall, Daryl stepped in first.

Carol's eyes scanned the room the moment she stepped in behind Daryl. Bloody footprints led the way to the bed, and on the floor, at the end of the bed, sat Negan, slumped over with his wife's lifeless body in his arms. Her arm was limp at her side, a deep, gaping wound just past her wrist. Her head fell back against the crook of Negan's arm, and a deep wound was visible at her neck. Her white sleeping gown was soaked with blood, and Negan's hands and shirt were stained with it, too.

"Oh God," Carol murmured. Negan looked up then, as if he hadn't heard them in the house at all. His eyes appeared out of focus, his brow furrowed in confusion. He'd been crying, and his chest was heaving as he tried to gain his composure.

Carol took a step toward them, but Daryl grabbed her hand and kept her back.

"I didn't see Henry. He, uh…he wasn't here when I…"

"He's safe," Carol promised. "He ran to our house. He's not bitten. He's…he's ok." Negan nodded absently at Carol's words, and he pulled Lucy's body against his chest. His hand cradled the back of her head. It, too, was tinged with fresh blood from the knife he'd put through her skull to keep her from turning.

"It was David," Negan murmured, staring off somewhere past Carol and Daryl. He's brows raised, and his eyes widened. "He was at the gate. He must have gotten bit. I ran him off, and I didn't think." He looked down at Lucy. "Merle relieved me on perimeter watch. I went home. The light was on, and I thought…" He shook his head again. "She must have heard a noise, went to see if someone needed help. She's good like that. Was. When I got home, she was already gone. Bled out. Looks like it was fast. I don't know. Blood was everywhere. Red. Everywhere. So thick you could smell it. And he was…" He clenched his jaw, shaking breath coming out faster as the memory hit him. "David was on the floor with her. And I knew she was gone. But I had to make him stop. I hit him. Over and over again until he was still."

"That wasn't David," Daryl pointed out. "You know that. Them things don't pick and choose."

"I know," Negan murmured, wiping at his nose with the back of his bloodied hand. "But I wanted it to be." Carol and Daryl stole a glance at one another, and Daryl took a step forward. "I wanted him to feel what Lucy must've felt. What I was feeling. It was his fault. His dumbass fault." Carol took a step closer, and Daryl was right at her side.

"We need to get you out of here," Carol said softly. "She wouldn't want you here like this."

"She's dead. What she wants…" He let out a little chuckle, squeezing his eyes shut tight as that laugh crumbled into a cry. "Just leave us be."

"You got a son. He needs ya," Daryl said quietly. Negan looked down at his wife's pale face, and he leaned forwards to kiss her forehead. He whispered something against her skin, and Daryl felt the lump in his throat rise and fall with a hard swallow. He'd had nightmares about this very thing, only it was him holding Carol. They'd both had some close calls over the years, and while they could both take care of themselves, it was always a fear in the back of his mind. Any time he left to go on a run, he worried what he'd be coming back to. Anytime she went out there, he couldn't focus until she was back home, safe with him.

"_Everyone ok in here?"_ A voice coming from downstairs echoed through the house. Carol recognized it as Tara's. "_Oh, shit!" _Carol quickly turned and left the room, hurrying down the hall and carefully stepping down the stairs until she was standing in the foyer, peering into the dining room where Tara stood over David's body.

"Tara."

"What the hell happened? I saw the door open, and I thought something was wrong. Who's this?"

"David. That kid from Decatur."

"Jesus," Tara murmured. "What happened?" She looked away, biting back the urge to throw up at the sight of David's brains and pieces of his skull all over Negan's dining room floor.

"He must've been bit. Negan says he came home and found Lucy dead. And David was…" She shook her head and took a deep breath.

"What happened to David? I know there was that thing at the gate yesterday, but…"

"Yeah, I guess he got bit trying to take down a couple of them. I don't know. Whatever happened, he hid that he was bit, and now Lucy's dead."

"Poor Negan," Tara murmured. "What about Henry?"

"Henry's shaken up, but he's ok. He wasn't bit."

"Should I get Denise? I mean, for Negan?"

"I don't think he's hurt," Carol said quietly. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah, anything."

"Can you go to Merle's and watch the kids for a few minutes? Send him over. We'll need him to help with the bodies."

"Yeah, of course." She reached out and touched Carol's arm. "I'm really sorry. I know you and Lucy were friends. I know she was a good person. It sucks that this happened." She turned then and headed off toward Merle's, while Carol went back up the steps.

When she arrived back in the bedroom, Negan had moved Lucy up to the bed, and he was sitting on the end of it with his back to her body and his head in his hands.

"How's he doing?" Carol whispered, curling her hand into Daryl's. Daryl shook his head, and Carol sighed softly. She turned her attention to Negan and spoke a little louder. "Merle's coming to help. We need to move her."

"Yeah," Negan murmured, looking up. "I know."

"We'll need to bury her today." He nodded again. "You understand that, right?"

"Yeah. I get it." He stood up and crossed the room, stepping into the side bathroom and washing the blood from his hands. Carol looked to Daryl and gave him a sad little smile.

"We haven't had a funeral for a long time."

"First one in over a year," he said quietly. "Sure didn't think she'd be the next one we'd be buryin'."

"Me neither," she said quietly. "Come on. Let's give him some space. Merle will be here soon." She gave his hand a squeeze, and together they left Negan to wait downstairs for Merle.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Please leave feedback. It's greatly appreciated._


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Nine Lives

When Lydia was still small, old enough to talk some but too young to really put into words the things that upset her, Carol would gather her up in her arms like she once did with Sophia, lay down with her on the bed and just stay with her until the tears passed. She'd put her hand on her little girl's back and wait for her breathing to slow. They usually would lie there long enough that by the time Lydia was finished crying, she wouldn't even remember what she was crying about in the first place.

To Carol's surprise, when she peeked into Lydia's bedroom, she saw Henry with his face buried in Lydia's pillow. Lydia was sitting next to him with her hand on his back. Carol's hand flew to her chest, and she blinked back tears.

"It's ok, Henry," Lydia comforted him. "You can share my mommy." Henry let out another cry but said nothing. Carol cleared her throat and stepped into the room. Lydia looked up at her with wide eyes.

"Honey, would you give us a minute, please? Daddy and Luke are downstairs."

"Okay, Mommy." Lydia got up off the bed, and she left the room. Carol moved over and knelt down by the edge of the bed.

"The funeral's about to start," Carol whispered. Henry sniffled and wiped at his eyes before turning to face the other wall. "It's ok to be sad. But your mommy loved you a lot. You know that, don't you? I'll bet that's why you're crying right now. You miss her. She was a good mommy." He nodded but kept his back to her. "It's a scary thing that happened. But it's over now. Your mommy's not scared anymore. She's not hurt anymore. The monster that hurt her is dead, too. It's safe now." Henry turned then, looking up at Carol with big, tear-filled eyes.

"It wasn't safe before."

"It was safe. It was a bad accident. And we're all going to work very hard to make sure accidents like that don't happen again." She put her hand on Henry's back. "You saw something very bad. I know. And you're probably going to think about it for a long time. I want you to remember something. Those monsters might be real, but that's why we're here. Daryl, your daddy, Merle, Me? We're here to protect you and the other children and keep you safe. When bad things happen, we stand in front of you and make sure you stay safe." Henry sniffled and wiped his nose.

"That's what my mommy did. She made me get behind her, and then she told me to run to your house. But I couldn't. I got scared. I hid. And when I came out, mommy wasn't moving. So I ran."

"That's ok," Carol whispered. "It's ok that you hid and that you ran. That was smart. That's why you're still here."

"I'm scared. What if my daddy gets hurt?"

"Hey," Carol said softly, gently stroking the back of the boy's head. "It's ok to be scared. It's ok. We're all going to work extra hard to make sure nobody gets hurt, ok?" Henry nodded then and sniffled.

"Okay."

"Alright. We have to go say goodbye to your mama. It's ok to cry. Okay?" He nodded then, and Carol took his hand and gave him a pull. "Put your shoes on, buddy." He stepped into his shoes, and Carol gave his hand a squeeze. "We're all here. Your dad, Daryl, me. Don't be scared, ok?" Henry nodded then, and he sniffled. They walked hand in hand down the stairs, and when they stepped out onto the porch, Lydia came over to take his hand.

"I'll stay with him, Mommy," she promised. "I won't let go of his hand."

"Good." Carol smiled proudly at her little girl and turned to Daryl, who held a sleeping Luke in his arms. Thunder rumbled overhead, but the rain still hadn't come. As much as they needed it, Carol hoped it would hold off until the funeral was over. Burying not just one but two of their people was going to be difficult enough without having to do it in the rain.

"Soon as it's over, me and Merle are gonna slip out, real quiet, and try to draw the walkers away, just like we planned," he said quietly, as they walked toward the small graveyard they'd made out by the west field.

"It can wait a few days, can't it?" Carol asked, knowing the answer before the question was out of her mouth. "Of course it can't. Stupid question." Daryl curled his arm around her waist as they walked. "Don't take any unnecessary risks. I know you feel like this is on you to get done, but it's not. And if something happens, I want you to come home."

"I will. I promise."

"I don't want to sleep alone tonight."

"I'll be home. Nothin' is gonna keep me from gettin' back to you."

...

The rain never came. The funeral was over in a matter of minutes, and when it was done, Negan stayed behind with Henry as the graves were filled in with dirt. Carol and Daryl were the last to leave, but before they did, they approached Negan.

"Henry's welcome to stay at our place for a few days, if ya need a little time," Daryl offered. "Hell, you're welcome, too, if ya don't wanna be in that house."

"It's fine." Negan's voice was void of emotion. His eyes were red from crying, his voice was raw, and he looked like he could collapse at any minute. "Henry, you can go with Carol and Daryl if you want to."

"No," Henry whimpered. "Daddy, I wanna stay with you." He clung tightly onto Negan's hand. Negan swallowed hard but nodded.

"Alright, buddy." He hoisted his son up into his arms, and Henry pulled his arms tight around his dad's neck.

"If you need anything," Daryl murmured quietly, "let us know. We'll help however we can."

"Appreciate that, Daryl," Negan offered with a nod. "Just gonna take my son home now. Start cleanin' the place up."

"Lydia and Tara are already there. They wanted to get most of it taken care of before you got home. You shouldn't have to do that."

"Nobody should," Daryl agreed. He clapped Negan on the shoulder, and he and Carol turned to head back toward the house. He bent down to scoop up Luke in his arms, and Lydia looked up at Carol as they walked.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Is that how my first mommy and daddy died? Did they die like Henry's mommy?" Carol looked at Daryl, and she shook her head.

"I'm not sure about your mommy or what really happened to her." Carol thought for a moment. "Do you remember the book I showed you? The one with the letter your first daddy wrote you?"

"Uh-huh."

"See, your daddy died before we found you. But Dog was there, and he barked until we found you. We wrapped you up so you were nice and warm, and we took you home and kept you warm and gave you something to eat."

"Did you love me right away?" Lydia asked. Carol smiled.

"You came along at the perfect time," Carol murmured, taking her little girl's hand as they walked.

"She's right about that," Daryl chimed in. "You were so little, couldn't take care of yourself. But Dog made sure we found you so you'd have a family."

"It's sad my first daddy died," Lydia said softly. "Maybe my first mommy's still out there somewhere. Do you think she might be?" Carol and Daryl shared a glance before Carol stopped and knelt down in front of Lydia.

"Anything's possible, Lydia, but there's a lot of bad things out there."

"The monsters."

"Right."

"Well," Lydia thought, "if she's still alive, I hope she found a family like you and daddy found me." Carol smiled a little and pulled Lydia into a hug.

"Me too," she whispered. She pulled out of the hug and stood back up, brushing the grass off of her knees. "How about this? You and me and Luke can go home and bake some cookies and read your favorite books today. Would you like that?"

"Can Henry come too?"

"Honey, I think Henry and his daddy need a little time together right now. Okay?" Lydia nodded.

"Okay. But, Daddy has to help make cookies," Lydia insisted.

"Uh, Lyddie, I gotta go out there for a little bit," he murmured, nodding toward the walls. Lydia's eyes widened.

"No, Daddy. Don't go. The monsters!"

"Baby girl, me and Uncle Merle gotta go lure 'em away from here. We're safe, but the longer they're out there, the more of 'em they're gonna attract. You understand?" Lydia nodded her head. "I'll be home by supper, alright? So you save me a cookie. Don't let your little brother eat 'em all."

"I won't," she said glumly. Daryl put Luke down, and Lydia took his hand.

"You take your brother on in the house, alright? I'm gonna say goodbye to your mom." Lydia nodded then, and she led her brother up the steps and into the house, while Daryl turned to face Carol. "You ain't sleepin' alone tonight."

"I love you," she whispered, leaning in to press her lips against his. "Be safe."

"Nine lives," he promised. "Remember?"


	36. Memory Lane

Chapter 36: Memory Lane

The old pickup truck was on its last legs. Gasoline was getting harder and harder to come by, and while they didn't need the generators as much anymore because of the solar panels, most gas they were able to salvage from old junk cars wasn't prioritized for vehicles. It was strictly for the generator and supply runs.

Over the past year, the group had been talking about what to do once they no longer had access to gasoline, and Daryl had been working with a few of the guys in the community, drawing up plans to use old car seats and tires and frames and rigging them up for some of the horses to pull. It would take longer to get places, but the idea was becoming more practical than wasting fuel that would one day run out or go bad.

They had even come up with a prototype, though it wasn't quite what it needed to be yet. And on this afternoon, as Daryl let the truck practically crawl down the old country road, he imagined this might be the standard speed of travel before too long. He had to admit, when it came time to say goodbye to his motorcycle for good, he was going to miss zooming down the empty roads and zigzagging around burnt out cars and other road blocks. But, the world was evolving, and they had to evolve with it.

Merle leaned forward and turned down the music they'd been blasting. They had a good herd of about two hundred trailing them about a hundred yards back. They were close enough to keep the walkers' interest, but they were far enough away that they could get a good head start if things went south.

"Why'd you turn it down?" Daryl asked.

"Shit's just depressing," Merle muttered.

"We went to a damn funeral today, and it's rock and roll that depresses you?" Daryl asked with a snort.

"These sons of bitches are long dead. Ain't never gonna make another song. Ain't never gonna make another album. Music's dead. Best singer we got back home is half tone deaf." Daryl couldn't help but laugh at that. "Shit, you remember them days when we'd lay around the house just crankin' the music up, smokin' the good stuff?"

"Yeah, _you _was," Daryl muttered.

"That's right. You were always the good one. Too scared to let yourself do somethin' ya weren't s'posed to once in a while."

"Too busy pickin' your drunk, stoned ass up off the floor to find time for it," Daryl pointed out. Merle grinned.

"Yeah, them were the days." Merle laughed then, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. He smiled at the memories of some of the stupid shit he'd done out of pure awe that he'd survived to remember it.

Daryl chewed his bottom lip for a minute, peering in the rear view mirror at the horde of walkers behind them.

"Things ain't gonna be the same back home. You know that, right?" he asked, glancing at his older brother.

"Yeah. I know. To be honest, if I was Negan, I'd be losin' my goddamn mind right about now. Shit's messed up. Lucy was a good woman. Damn shame she's gone."

"She was," Daryl said quietly. "First people after you we took in. Wasn't sure 'bout takin' anybody in 'cause of Lydia, but it was probably the best decision we made. Feels like we gave her a family."

"'Course you did. You did good with her. Wasn't for you, she woulda froze to death, been a snack for them geeks out there. Ain't no way to die." He cleared his throat. "Lucy deserved better."

"He didn't tell anybody," Daryl mused. "Didn't tell a damn soul he was bit. And he knew what would happen. But he didn't say a damn word." He shook his head. "That can't ever happen again."

"How the hell we gonna stop it? Somebody wants to hide that they're bit, they're gonna do it. Most of our people? Nah, they're gonna say somethin'."

"Just keep thinkin' about Jim."

"Jim?" Merle asked.

"Yeah. Back at the quarry. Remember him? Always hung around Dale and helped him work on the RV?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember him."

"The night we got back from Atlanta, after we all went lookin' for you, we got back to camp just as a bunch of walkers came through. Lost Andrea's little sister Amy, Carol's husband Ed. Lots of others. Anyway, we was separatin' the bodies out, puttin' knives through their skulls so they wouldn't come back. And Jacqui noticed Jim was bit. He didn't wanna tell anybody. He was scared. I fuckin' flipped out, wanted to put a bullet in his head. I mean, he was a dead man already, but I went about it all wrong. But he was scared, 'cause he knew somebody was gonna do it. He wanted to go on his own terms. Think maybe that's what David wanted." He leaned his head back against the head rest. "Jim didn't want us to put him down. Probably should've. Who knows how many people he killed after he turned. But he didn't want to be put down. He wanted to die alone."

"Yeah. David coulda told somebody. Instead, he went off and died, and then he came back and killed Lucy. Ain't no sense in it. Maybe he was just sick. Kid fucked up one too many times as it was. Hell, for all we know, he got himself bit on purpose. Wanted to bring us down."

"Think there's somebody that sick in this world?" Daryl asked, furrowing his brows.

"This world changes you. Remember how goddamn bad the news always was, how many sick fucks were out there? This world could warp any mind. You know how many people I saw shot point blank in the head right in front of me, and I didn't even blink? That's what this world does. Poor Lucy. Didn't belong in this world. She had everything goin' against her for a good long while, and she beat it back. And now, all 'cause of some coward son of a bitch, she's gone. It's a goddamn shame, that's what it is." Daryl eyed Merle for a moment, and then he turned his focus back on the road. He turned the music up again and continued on his mission.

...

Carol and the children had retreated to the house after the funeral, and Lydia had kept her brother occupied with games and coloring while Carol took a much needed nap. This pregnancy was tiring her out more than the previous one, and while she knew it was emotional exhaustion from losing Lucy so abruptly, she just felt achy and weak all over.

She'd taken about an hour long nap before getting up to make lunch for the kids. The rest of the day, she'd sat around with them reading their favorite stories until supper time. After the children had their baths and were down for the night, Carol retired to her room with every intention of staying up to read. But it wasn't long before she was nodding off with the book in her lap. So, she gave up and went to sleep and was only awakened a while later when the bed shifted and somebody slid beneath the covers. She smiled when she felt his calloused hand against her stomach, creeping up her night shirt in that familiar way. He kissed the back of her neck and groaned softly in exhaustion.

"Sorry I didn't make it home for supper."

"It's ok. You hungry?"

"Nah. I'll wait for breakfast," he murmured. "The kids ok?"

"Mmm," Carol whispered. "How'd it go?"

"Good. Got 'em about twenty miles out, hit the gas and led 'em on a wild goose chase for about twenty minutes, got 'em all mixed up. We lost 'em and headed back toward home. Still a few outside the gates, but we got 'em 'fore we came in."

"Good," Carol sighed. "I'm glad you're home." She turned over to face him and kissed him softly. His hand slid up her back, gently caressing her there as her fingertips brushed the stubble on his jaw. He leaned forward then, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Love you so damn much. You know that?"

"Mmm, I had a hunch," she grinned. She sighed and curled up against him, and they lay wrapped up in one another for a long while before low rumbles of thunder began to roll in and lull them to sleep.


	37. The Deep End

Chapter 37: The Deep End

"Stop," Carol laughed, as Daryl's hands moved down her waist and over her hips.

"What?" he asked, pressing into her from behind as he moved his hands back up slowly until he was running them down the lengths of her arms.

"What?" Carol snorted. "You expect me to concentrate with you grabbing me like that?"

"Just helpin' ya with your aim," Daryl offered.

"Please. I'm a better shot than you," she laughed.

"With a gun, maybe, but this is new. I got more experience with a bow."

"Mr. Crossbow," Carol grinned, "_this_ is a traditional longbow. It's a whole different weapon. Elegant."

"You sayin' somethin' bout my crossbow?" Daryl asked, as Carol pulled her hand back, anchoring her hand just next to her chin. She focused then, before releasing the bow toward the intended target, an old tree stump several yards away. She released, and the arrow hit the mark beautifully.

"No, I just like this one better," Carol offered with a smile, turning and wiggling her eyebrows at him teasingly. "It's not as heavy as the crossbow. I like it."

"Good. You got your practice in. Let's get back home."

"Practice? Daryl, I shot a tree stump."

"Don't like you bein' out here so much," Daryl said quietly. "I worry 'bout you and the baby."

"I'm pregnant, Daryl. I haven't forgotten how to take care of myself."

"I know," Daryl said quietly.

"Besides, I want to be prepared for anything." She placed her hand on her stomach. She was starting to show. Her first official appointment with Denise had revealed she was already twelve weeks pregnant. That was a month ago. She was already beginning to feel little flutters from time to time. And in that month's time, the slight swell of her belly was now unmistakably round. There was no hiding it. She was noticeably pregnant. "Remember, I almost gave birth to Luke out in the woods."

"Yeah, and that's why I'm keepin' my eye on you."

"I was craving rabbit."

"I woulda got you ten rabbits," Daryl countered. "You were just impatient."

"I was hungry. Ravenous," Carol laughed. "And it worked out in the end. We got home, and Luke was born, and everything was fine. But I won't go off hunting rabbits again. I promise." Daryl eyed her for a moment, and she leaned forward and kissed him. "I know you're just worried. Thank you, but I can take care of myself."

"I know ya can. Probably better than anybody else 'round here." He pulled her into a hug. He leaned his forehead against hers, and he felt her belly nudge into him. He grinned.

"What?"

"Nothin'. You're the prettiest pregnant girl I ever saw."

"Girl? Oh, Daryl Dixon, I do believe you're flirting with me." She batted her eyelashes. "When we get home and I put up my feet and feel the aches and pains, I'll feel every bit of forty-five and pregnant. I haven't felt like a girl since…" Daryl chuckled then, and he kissed her quiet. She giggled against his kiss. Maybe she didn't feel like the girl she'd once been, but he certainly knew how to make her feel like a woman.

"C'mon. I'll take you home and give you a good rub down."

"Oooh, a massage?" Carol sighed. Daryl smirked.

"Not what I had in mind, but sure, we'll start there."

"Oh, I like where this is going." They started walking off toward the road where Daryl had parked the pickup. They'd been out on a quick supply run and had stopped off for a little target practice. Carol's new weapon was quickly becoming more like a hobby. She'd started playing around with it a couple of weeks ago, and she was already an almost expert shot. She practiced in the backyard, she practiced at the gates, aiming for random walkers passing by. She'd gotten good fast, and she was learning to be efficient with it and work around her growing belly.

It had been just over a month since Lucy died, and Carol could count on both hands the number of times she'd woken up to finding Henry had snuck into their home and curled up asleep on the couch downstairs with Dog. Daryl would always walk him home, and Negan was growing increasingly frustrated with his son for his antics. It broke Carol's heart to see them both so lost.

They made it back to the truck and started off toward home. Carol smiled when Daryl reached for her hand. It was something they did. Whether they were sitting in the living room watching the children play or sitting on the porch at night, he always found her hand. His thumb traced over her knuckles, and she closed her eyes, relishing the quiet moment, thankful that they had, at least, the promise of tonight.

"Have you talked to him?" Carol asked quietly after a few minutes. He didn't even have to ask. He knew.

"Other than takin' Henry back over this mornin', no. He don't talk. Just goes out there, takin' all his anger out on the walkers with that damned bat. Swear I think he sees David every time he puts one of them things down. It's good for the group, not havin' so many of 'em outside the gates. But he's gonna get himself hurt."

"Maybe we should offer to take Henry for a few days. I know we've offered before, but I think maybe they could both use a break. They're both grieving. We could let Lydia and Henry have a little camp out in the backyard, maybe."

"I'll talk to him about it tomorrow," Daryl said with a little nod. "I know what he's gonna say, though."

"We can try. Honestly, I know Negan loves Henry, but Henry was so close to his mom. The worst feeling in the world is losing the one person who means the world to you." Daryl gave her hand a squeeze. "But if anybody knows you can survive it and even be happy again, it's me."

...

Negan and Henry sat at the table, each with an almost untouched bowl of soup in front of them. Henry rested with his elbow on the table, arm propping his head up as he sighed and looked forlornly at the food in front of him..

"Eat," Negan urged.

"You're not," Henry murmured. "Why do I have to?"

"'Cause I'm your dad, and I said so." Henry sighed and took a bite of his biscuit before tasting the soup. He put the spoon back down in the bowl. "What? No good."

"Tastes funny."

"You always liked it."

"Mommy makes it better," Henry replied, leveling a gaze at his father that was filled with both anger and sadness. Negan felt it cut right through him like a knife in the belly.

"Look," Negan started, pushing back in his chair with both hands on the table. "I know you miss her. I miss her, too. But she's gone, son. She's not comin' back. I'm sorry, but she's not." Henry's lower lip quivered, and he slid out of his chair and sprinted for the door. "Henry!" In an instant, Henry was rushing up the stairs, and the next thing Negan heard was the door slamming. Moments later, he could hear the boy's cries.

With a heavy groan, Negan got up from his chair and started clearing the table. When he was finished with the dishes. As he cleared and washed, he thought about how excited Lucy had been when she found out she was pregnant. Despite the world going to shit all around them, he could still remember the wide smile that spread across her face. Henry has been the little beacon of hope that had kept her going.

He remembered being scared shitless. He would lie awake at night, listening to the sounds of walkers clawing and groaning as they tried to get into whatever shelter he and Lucy had found for the night. He remembered being angry sometimes, laying there in a cold sweat, wondering how he was going to protect an innocent life. They'd tried for so long to get pregnant, and when it finally happened, it was when the dead were at the top of the food chain, and a single cry from an infant could be a death sentence.

The bigger Lucy's belly grew, the more terrified he became, because he knew, when it came down to it, if she didn't die giving birth, she probably wouldn't last long unless they found someplace safe and secure. And then she'd been bit, and he'd expected her to die. But she hadn't. And, miraculously ,Henry hadn't. And he came along and was healthy and perfect, and despite almost dying, Lucy got better, and as soon as she was able, she was doting on Henry like she was born for it. He would watch in amazement as she seemed to react to each of Henry's cries as if she knew exactly what he needed. She was an amazing mom, and he always felt so lost in caring for the boy. He loved him, but he had never expected to be anyone's father. Hell, he'd never expected to be anyone's husband, but then Lucy came along and all of his ideas about his life and future had gone right out the window.

She was the only woman he'd never willingly made a fool of himself for. And he would have given her everything. So, when she wanted a baby the first time around, he was willing to give her that to make her happy. Until the end. The biggest regret he'd carry to his grave was that the last conversation he had with his wife before she died was an argument.

He finished cleaning up and headed upstairs. He tried not to focus on the faded stains along the stair steps where Lydia and Tara had scrubbed away the blood. Even if the stains faded more over time, he'd still remember. Every moment of that awful day seemed to be ingrained in his memory like a high definition video playing on a loop.

He peeked into Henry's room. It was quiet, and he could see the boy curled up under his blankets, his dirty blonde hair messy against the pillow. He stepped inside for a moment, staring down at the boy as he slept, and he felt a lump form in his throat.

"I'm in the deep end here, buddy, and I don't have a clue how to swim. But, I promise you, I'm gonna make sure I do what's best for you, what keeps you safe. It's what your mom would want."

_Author's Note: Please let me know what you think! Feedback is so very much appreciated. Thanks for reading!_


	38. The Note

Chapter 38: The Note

Carol was just finishing up breakfast dishes when Lydia came walking in the kitchen with Dog right behind her.

"Mommy, can I play at Henry's?"

"If Henry's daddy's ok with it," Carol agreed with a nod. She turned to her daughter and chuckled. She'd pulled her hair up in a sloppy ponytail, and wisps of hair were sticking out in every which direction. "Honey, come here. If I let you out of the house looking like that, they're going to think I let Luke do your hair." Lydia giggled, and Carol sat down in the chair. Lydia turned, and Carol quickly slipped her hair out of the tie and combed it back with her fingers. When her dark locks were smooth and pulled back evenly, Carol patted the top of her head. "There we go."

"Thanks, Mommy." She turned, and she looked down at her mother's belly. She stared curiously for a moment before looking up at Carol's face.

"Lydia? Do you have any questions for me?"

"No," Lydia said softly, shaking her head.

"Are you sure?" Carol was a little reluctant at urging her daughter to ask questions, because the inevitable birds and bees talk wasn't something she wanted to discuss so early, but Lydia had been staring a lot, and she could practically see the wheels turning in her head. Carol narrowed her eyes at her daughter. "Sweetie, do you remember when Luke was born?"

"Uh-huh. He cried a lot. And pooped." Carol laughed.

"Yes, he did," she grinned. "Do you remember how my belly wasn't big anymore after he came along?"

"Uh-huh," Lydia said, furrowing her brows. "I think so."

"That's because he was safe and warm in there until he was ready to come out. That's why mommy's belly got so big." Lydia giggled.

"How'd the baby get in there?"

"Mommies and daddies work together to put the baby in there," Carol said carefully.

"Oh," Lydia said with a nod, seemingly satisfied with the answer, to Carol's relief. "Well, is it a baby boy or a baby girl?"

"We won't know for a while," Carol offered. "We may not know until he or she gets here."

"Well, that's silly."

"What's silly?"

"You and daddy put the baby in there. You should know if it's a boy or a girl."

"Oh," Carol laughed. "Well, the baby starts out very tiny, smaller than a seed. You can't even see it at first. But it grows and gets bigger. At first, it's too tiny to tell. Do you understand?"

"I don't think so," Lydia said with a shrug.

"Well, I'll explain it a little better when you're older."

"Mommy?"

"Yes, baby."

"You and daddy found me. I had another mommy and daddy at first."

"Right."

"But you and daddy put Luke in your belly. And my new brother or sister."

"Right," Carol said slowly, trying to figure out where the conversation was going.

"Does this mean you'll love Luke and the new baby more than me?"

"No, of course not! Why would you think that?"

"I just thought, 'cause Luke looks like you and daddy. I don't look like anybody I know."

"Oh, honey, don't you worry about that. _You_ are my beautiful little girl, and I love you so much. And I love Luke and this baby."

"And my first sister?" Lydia asked softly.

"And your first sister," Carol said softly.

"Did you and daddy put her in your belly, too?"

"No, honey. Mommy was married to someone else a long time ago. He wasn't a very nice man. But your daddy? He's the best man I've ever known." She pulled Lydia into a hug. "Sophia would have loved to have a little sister like you. Do you know that? She always wanted a little sister."

"Maybe we can name the new baby Sophia. If she's a girl."

"Oh, honey, that's so sweet, but I think the baby should have its own name, don't you?"

"I guess so," Lydia said with a nod. "But maybe it could be her middle name."

"Maybe," Carol smiled. She hugged her little girl again, and then she patted her on the back. "I do love you, Lyddie Dixon."

"Love you too, Mama." Carol let her out of the hug and nodded toward the door.

"Go play. Come home for lunch, ok, baby?"

"Okay, Mama!" she called, letting the screen door slam shut in her excitement to get to Henry's. Carol shook her head, smiled to herself and placed her hand on her stomach. "You're gonna need a lot of energy to keep up with your big sister."

...

"Good! Aim a little higher up, Lizzie," Carol instructed one of the younger girls. They had constructed some dummy walkers out of burlap sacks and stale grain. Carol occasionally had people over, young and old, for knife lessons. "Good. Everybody, watch your stance. Keep your weight balanced before you lunge. You want to have the advantage. If they push into you, you don't want them overtaking you. If that happens, you're dead. Again!"

She wiggled her fingers at Luke in a little wave. He grinned at her from where he sat on the porch with a little bucket of blueberries in his lap. His face and fingers were stained purple. He sure did love to watch the knife practice, and he always stayed out of the way.

As the trainees continued, Carol looked around the place, marveling at what this little farm had become. New houses, new buildings, new people. This was the first place that had felt like home in years, and she was so grateful she and Daryl had found it. As strange as it sounded, the farm felt like a part of her. She and Daryl had worked hard to make it into something sustainable. With new crops every year, baby animals each spring and children being born left and right, it was beginning to feel like it was time to think bigger. There was still room for growth, but she knew it wouldn't be long before expansion became necessary.

When Daryl returned from speaking with Merle, he greeted his wife with a kiss on the cheek. His crossbow was slung over his shoulder, and Carol raised an eyebrow.

"Going somewhere?"

"Yeah. Jerry said he spotted some deer grazing in the field this morning. Gonna see if I can track one. Kids ain't had venison in a long time."

"Be home for supper?"

"I'll bring supper if I can help it," he chuckled. He nodded to the group as they tried another thrust through the "belly" of the fake walkers. "How they doing?"

"Well, if these were real walkers, everybody here would be dead. But they're getting better," Carol admitted with a half smile.

"That's somethin', right?"

"Hmm." Carol leaned in to kiss her husband, and she sighed happily when he pulled her into a hug.

"I love you."

"Love you more," she whispered. "I'll see you when you get home." He gave her a little squeeze before going over to give Luke a hug and a kiss goodbye.

By the time the lesson was over, Carol was feeling hungry, and she knew it was getting close to lunch, so she sent everyone on their way and took Luke inside to clean him up. By the time she got him out of the tub, dried and re-dressed, she could hear Lydia and Henry coming in from outside. So, she came with Luke down the stairs and got him situated with some toys in the living room.

"Lydia, Henry? You two hungry?" She headed into the kitchen where the two were sitting at the table, waiting patiently. "Who am I kidding? You two have been playing all morning. Of course you're hungry."

"Mommy, can Henry stay with us?"

"What?" Carol asked. "I think his daddy might miss him." She folded her arms across her chest and looked down at the two.

"Well, Henry's daddy said he had to go away for a while. So can he stay here, Mommy? Please?" Lydia asked. Carol furrowed her brows.

"Honey, you must be mistaken. Negan wasn't going on any runs."

"He told me to come here and give you this," Henry said softly, holding up a piece of paper.

"I tried to read it, Mommy, but the letters were all curvy and together. I don't know how to read that."

"Let me see that," Carol said quietly, taking the paper in her hands. She looked down at Henry, who looked down at his hands in his lap.

"Mommy, can we have apple?"

"Yeah, grab one for you and Henry. I'll be right back, ok?" Lydia nodded, and Carol stepped out onto the back porch with the paper in her hand. She sat down on the porch step and took a deep breath before reading.

_Carol and Daryl,_

_What you've done for my family is a kindness I can't repay. And now I'm asking you for another. Please take care of my son. I love my son, but being here without Lucy is like living in a nightmare I can't wake up from. I can barely drag myself out of bed in the morning, and I know he sees it. No kid deserves that. He doesn't deserve to have somebody who's there but not here. It's not right. I'm not right. I have a lot of shit to sort out, and when I do, I'll be back. But I can't let him watch me go through it. I can't put that on a kid. Maybe I'm a coward. But I know my son deserves better than I can give him right now. Please, don't come after me. It's better this way._

_Negan_

_Author's Note: Please let me know what you think! Feedback is always appreciated! Thank you so much for reading. _


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39: Let's Make a Deal

"What are we gonna do?" Carol watched Daryl pace the room as she sat on the bed brushing out her hair.

"Ain't no question. Henry'll stay with us."

"Of course he'll stay with us. I meant about Negan," Carol explained. As soon as Daryl had gotten back from hunting, she'd met him at the gate with the note, and his first instinct was to head out and try to catch up with Negan. But they had no way of knowing what direction he would've traveled in. The young woman on walker watch hadn't seen anybody slip out, but she recalled seeing a few walkers heading east, as if they'd spotted something and were on the hunt. But, it was getting late, and his family needed him at home. Negan's letter had been pretty clear.

"He don't wanna be found."

"He's grieving, Daryl."

"Yeah. He is. But he ain't been the same since Lucy died. And Henry's been sleep walkin' or sneakin' out. One or the other. Things ain't been good over there."

"So we just let him go?" Carol asked.

"It's what he wants. It might be best for Henry for now." Daryl sat down next to his wife on the bed. "I don't like this anymore'n you do. But there ain't much we can do. If he don't wanna be found, he ain't gonna be found."

"You're right," Carol agreed. "I just feel so bad for Henry."

"The kid's been through a lot. So has his dad. Look, Negan can take care of himself. Henry can't. So I say we take care of the boy 'til Negan comes back."

"If he comes back." Daryl wrapped his arm around Carol's waist, and she leaned into him. "I think part of him died when Lucy died. I'm worried about what he's gonna do."

"If I lost you, I'd lose my goddamn mind," Daryl muttered. Carol turned her face toward his. "Don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

"One of us is going to outlive the other," Carol murmured. "Unless we get taken out at the same time." Daryl flinched at the thought. "It's gonna happen someday. And if I go first? You're going to be ok. You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because we both know what it's like to be alone. You always had Merle, but you were alone. I had Ed and Sophia, but I tried so hard to keep Ed's abuse from Sophia that I felt like she didn't even know me. At the end, I think she understood, but she was so young. For most of my marriage, I felt like a single mom. We both survived awful situations, and somehow we found each other."

"And I ain't plannin' on losin' you anytime soon."

"Good, because I don't plan on going anywhere," she grinned. "Hey. I helped bring Henry into this world. I love that little boy, and we're gonna make sure he's taken care of." She put her hand on her belly. "What's one more?"

"Yeah. We've never met a challenge we ain't beat yet." Carol yawned then, and Daryl chuckled. "C'mon, let's go to bed."

...

He'd walked about five miles, each step more painful than the last. He'd turned around to head back about a dozen times, each time stopping himself and telling himself it was for the best. He was a fucking coward, and he knew it. The minute Lucy died, his family fell apart, and when she left, she took most of him with her. He felt like the shell of a person now, and it wasn't fair to Henry to grow up with a father like that. He loved the boy beyond words, and he knew this was the best thing for him. It was a selfless intention. So what did he feel so goddamned selfish?

He'd started off East. He had no reason for it. He remembered Eugene, Rosita and Abraham were heading that way. He didn't expect to run into them again, but it was at least a direction. And if nothing else, he'd eventually end up at the ocean, and maybe once he got there he'd have some shit figured out; have his head on straight so he could get back to his boy and raise him the way he was supposed to.

There was a small town they'd cleaned out of supplies over a year ago, and the place looked like it hadn't been touched since. Leaves and tree branches were thick on the streets, and the only walker Negan could see around was one trapped between a brick wall and the bumper of a car. Its lower half was strewn on the grown, while its arms reached for a victim it would never take.

Negan thought about putting it out of its misery, but he was exhausted himself and didn't want to waste the energy.

There was a small library at the edge of town they had raided for books on growing crops and raising livestock, and he remembered it being fairly secure. It would be a good place to rest for the night so he could start fresh in the morning.

Part of him wanted to keep moving, because he knew as soon as he closed his eyes, he'd want to go back. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and the farm. But he was weary, and the closer he got to the library, the more inviting it became.

But when he opened the door and stepped inside, the first thing he heard was a scuffle of footsteps, followed by a gun cocking.

"Drop the bat." The voice was low and hushed, but it was very distinctly a woman's voice.

"Hey, look, I'm just passing through."

"So am I. Drop the fucking bat." He held one hand up and dropped his barbed wire covered weapon at his feet. He put the other hand up, and the woman stepped out from the shadows. Her chest rose in fell in ragged breaths, and there was a glimmer of wildness in her eyes. She kept her gun pointed at Negan's face and used her free hand to pat him down.

"Look, last I came through here, this place didn't belong to anybody. So if you don't mind, I'll get the hell up out of your way, and we'll pretend this never happened." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Where did you come from? Where are you going?" Negan said nothing. "You're clean. Your clothes don't have holes or patches. You've been behind walls."

"Look, lady, I'm not from anywhere, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm just trying to survive. Like you."

"Are you with them?"

"With who?" Negan asked. When she didn't reply, he sighed. "Look. You don't trust me. That's fine. Just let me get my bat, and I'll be out of here. It's cool. I can find my own place for the night. Pretty sure there's a school a couple blocks away."

"It's overrun. I just came from there." She lowered her gun, but she didn't put it away.

"Mommy?" Negan turned toward the voice to see a little boy about Henry's size cowering behind one of the bookshelves. His clothes were torn, and he looked like he needed a hot meal and warm bed.

"Damn it. Baby, I told you to stay back there 'til I said it was safe." The little boy with dark hair and dark eyes flinched, and the woman waved him over. "It's ok, Dylan." She got between him and Negan, but Negan looked around her, waving to the boy.

"Dylan?" Negan asked. "Hey, Dylan. My name's Negan."

"Keep away," the mother bit out. "Stay away from my son."

"Look, it's obvious you two have been out here for a long while. I don't know what kind of trouble you've had with people, but I know a place with walls. People."

"Yeah, we know about that place." She let out a dry laugh. "They slaughter people for food."

"What? No. Not that place. I've heard of that place. This is a farm. They've got walls. People. Kids. They're good people."

"Right," she smirked. "See, I might believe that bullshit if we hadn't spent two weeks being hunted like a couple of animals."

"What happened? Did they give up?"

"Crazy, hungry people don't give up. I took care of it. But there were more. There had to be more."

"Look, lady. I don't know where you came from or what's happened to you, but I've got a boy about your boy's age. He's back there now. I wouldn't have left him if it wasn't safe."

"So you just tell some random stranger who held a gun at your head about this safe place you allegedly left your son at?"

"You didn't kill me. And you have a kid. That tells me two things. You're one of the good guys. And you need help."

"Mommy, can we go?" Dylan asked. The woman kept her focus on Negan.

"Why aren't you back there? Why are you leaving? If it's so safe, why leave your kid?"

"I'm not here to tell you my whole life story, Princess. I'm telling you, it's a good place with good people. And you look like you've been out here longer than a damn minute." He narrowed his eyes at her. "You've been going place to place all these years, haven't you? Haven't stayed more than a month anywhere in particular." The woman looked over at her son. "The place I was? They've built houses there. They have crops. Livestock. It's a goddamn paradise."

"A paradise that you left."

"A paradise that's still standing, because it has walls and food and people. Did I mention the walls?"

"Mommy, please? Can we go?" Dylan pleaded, tugging on her shirt.

"Where is it?" she asked, turning her attention back to Negan.

"Look, I'm not giving out information for free. Let's make a deal. You let me stay here tonight without putting a bullet in my head, and I'll tell you where this place is. It's not far. Won't take you long. You have a car?" She shook her head. "Yeah, didn't think so. It'll take you half a day to get there, but it'll be worth it. I promise."

"That's it? I don't kill you in your sleep, and you'll tell me where this place is?" A grin spread over Negan's face. The woman quickly stepped up into Negan's space, as if daring him to touch her. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Look, I don't know who you think you are, but I won't…"

"Don't flatter yourself. I want your gun."

"Excuse me?"

"This gun, any gun you have with you. I'll tell you where it's at, but I'm not sending a stranger with a loaded weapon back to my friends and family."

"You'd send a woman and a child out there unarmed?"

"You've been out here long enough, I'm pretty sure you know how to take care of yourself. Besides, I'm just asking for the guns. Knives are quieter, anyway." The woman scoffed, but Negan wasn't backing down.

"How do I know you're not lying through your teeth and sending us into a slaughter?" Negan grinned and reached down to pick up his bat.

"You don't. That's the problem with this world. You have to work harder to establish trust." Negan sighed when he realized he wasn't getting anywhere with her. "Look. I lost my wife. She died a little over a month ago. One of our people did something stupid, got bit and didn't tell anybody. I guess the group was lucky he only bit one person. Unfortunately, it was my wife. That's why I left. I've got shit to sort out, and I left my son with some good people while I sort out said shit." The woman slowly lowered her gun. "Look. All I want is your guns. I'm not going to force you to give them to me. You don't give me the guns, I don't tell you where this place is, and we both go on our merry little ways."

The woman looked to her son, and his pleading eyes were enough to convince her to take that chance. She could always find another weapon, after all. The chance to get her son behind walls with food and protection and a place to sleep wasn't going to come along every day.

"I'll give you the guns in the morning. I don't know you, and you'd be crazy to think I'd hand it over to a stranger in the middle of the night. At first light, I'll give you the guns, and you'll give me directions. Deal?"

"Deal," Negan chuckled. "Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna mosey on over to the self-help section and make my camp for the night." He slung his bat over one shoulder and his pack over the other. He winked at the boy and looked to the woman. "Don't worry. I'll keep my distance so long as you keep yours."

"Deal," she bit out, taking her son by the hand. "Come on, Dyl. Let's go get some sleep." She turned and led her boy back toward the doors that led to whatever part of the library they'd just come from.

"Make sure you tell 'em you saw me, and that I'm alright." She turned and looked at Negan. "If my boy Henry asks about me, just…tell him I miss him." She looked to Dylan and swallowed the lump in her throat. Finally, she lifted her gaze back up to him.

"Negan, right?"

"That's right, Dylan's mom." The woman let out a soft laugh and turned back toward the doors. As she walked away with her son, she called over her shoulder.

"The name's Andrea."

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for all the lovely comments. More to come soon!_


	40. Walls

Chapter 40

At first light, a knock came to Carol and Daryl's front door. It was Tara with a message from the front gate. Overnight, a small cluster of walkers had gathered outside the front gate. While the walls weren't threatened, that small herd was going to grow into a much larger one before long without an intervention. So, Carol and Daryl quickly dressed, gathered their weapons and left Tara to sit at the house in case the children woke up.

"I can do this alone, ya know," Daryl pointed out.

"So can I," Carol countered with a grin.

"Stubborn woman," Daryl muttered under his breath, as Carol gave him a swat on the behind.

"Yeah, I think you kinda like me that way." Daryl eyed her.

"No bow this time?"

"Nope. I like it keep it interesting. A machete to the skull. Quick and dirty." She punctuated her statement by tapping the sharp blade against the fence.

"How we doin' this?" Daryl asked, as the young man at the front, Noah, prepared to slide the gate door open.

"On on one, back to back?" Carol asked.

"Like the way you think." He leaned over and kissed his wife, and she smiled up at him. "Be safe."

"You too," she murmured. Daryl nodded to Noah.

"Do it." Noah quickly slid the gate open just enough to let Carol and Daryl out. As soon as they were out, he slammed it shut and started banging on the steel wall to draw some of them away.

There were about thirty walkers, and most of them were coming at Carol and Daryl, while a few others broke off to follow the ruckus Noah was creating.

The first two that came at Carol were quickly put down with sharp blows to the head. One fell and then the other. Daryl was picking them off with his favorite knife, and when he had an opening, he used his crossbow to put a bolt through the skull of one of the stragglers.

They worked like a well-oiled machine, keeping their backs together, turning with each kill. It wasn't long before Merle was up on the wall, picking off one walker at a time with his handgun and silencer. Within ten minutes, they were stepping over multiple bodies to get back to the gate.

"Gotta get that cleaned up," Daryl panted. "It's gonna get hot today. That smell's gonna be loud by noon." Carol made a face as she wiped off her machete on the grass. "You ok?"

"Never better," she beamed. Daryl narrowed his eyes at her.

"You're cheerful," he snorted.

"It's been a while since we fought together," Carol said with a shrug, tossing her weapon in a barrel just inside the gate. All contaminated weapons were taken to be sterilized before being returned to their owners. Daryl tossed his knife in and pulled his arm around Carol's waist.

"Like fightin' with you. Like it better when you ain't pregnant."

"Yeah. Me too. My back already hurts," Carol admitted.

"C'mon, I'll give you a backrub before breakfast."

"Oh, breakfast," Carol sighed, feeling her stomach growl at the idea.

"You two always been like this?" They turned at Noah's question, and Daryl narrowed his eyes at him but said nothing. "You just took down a small army of skin bags, and you're talking about breakfast?"

"This world ain't for the squeamish, kid," Merle laughed, climbing down from the lookout post he'd been standing on.

"Thanks for the help out there." Daryl clapped his brother on the shoulder.

"Don't mention it. I just wish you woulda called me. She ain't got no business going out there right now."

"Yeah?" Daryl smirked. "You try tellin' her that."

"Yeah, Merle. Try telling me that." Carol folded her arms across her chest.

"Oh, come on now. This ain't time for no equal rights, women's lib shit. You're one of the best damn fighters I ever seen. But ya ain't gotta feel obligated to go out there."

"I don't feel obligated. I know my limits, and I'm going to help as long as I can."

"Lost your damn mind if you ask me," Merle grumbled.

"You want some breakfast?" Carol asked, attempting to change the subject.

"Nah. Got myself another couple hours of beauty sleep to get in."

"Might wanna make that a couple years," Daryl teased, to which Merle shot him a look and promptly raised his middle finger in the air. Merle turned and headed back home. Carol and Daryl continued on toward home, and before they got there, Carol stopped and took Daryl's hand.

"Wait."

"Something wrong?"

"No. I...I think maybe I should stop. For now. Going out there."

"Yeah? You sure?"

"Oh, come on. I know it's what you want," Carol said with a sigh. "I know you hate it. And honestly, it probably isn't a good idea."

"What made ya change your mind?"

"I don't know. Maybe Negan leaving Henry. What happened to Lucy happened right here inside our walls. I know I can fight and take care of myself, but all it takes is one wrong step, and I could end up just like her." She ran her fingers through her hair.

"It's your decision. Can't say I ain't relieved, 'cause I am."

"I know," Carol murmured. "I know you worry every time I go out there. I'm sorry for worrying you. And honestly, something feels different this time around. I don't know what it is, but I think it's better if I stay close to home for a while." She looked down and put her hand on her belly.

"Different how?"

"I don't know. I can't explain it. I just feel like I need to stay close to home."

"Are you feelin' ok?"

"I feel ok. Just tired. Achy."

"Maybe you better talk to Denise."

"I will," Carol promised. "I have an appointment soon." She could see the worry in his eyes, and she knew what he had to be thinking. "Hey. Don't worry. I'm ok. The baby's ok. Denise says everything looks good." She shrugged her shoulders. "I have two five year olds, a toddler, and I'm pregnant. I'm perpetually exhausted." She gently stroked his cheek with her fingertips. "Please don't worry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"M'glad you did." He leaned in and kissed her. "I don't want you overdoing it. I'm gonna do what I can to help."

"You do more than enough, Daryl. You're the best partner I could have hoped for." She kissed him softly. And Daryl gathered her up in her arms without warning. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Daryl!"

"Today, you're gonna relax on the couch. I'm gonna take care of the kids and get the house cleaned up. And breakfast. Can't forget breakfast. Most important meal of the day."

"You don't have to do that," she laughed.

"I want to," he murmured.

"No you don't," she laughed. "But you're sweet." Daryl stepped up onto the front porch and put her down.

"M'serious. I wanna help."

"Thank you," Carol whispered. "I love you."

...

"Mommy? Are we there yet?" Dylan asked, kicking a rock with the toe of his shoe.

"No, baby. Not yet." Andrea paused at the crossroads and pulled out the map. Negan had circled the area where she could find this so called paradise, and she was beginning to think she'd been had. They'd set out at first light, and it was approaching noon. The more time went by, the more uneasy Andrea was beginning to feel about the whole thing.

The night the Greene farm was overrun was a blur in the back of her mind. She remembered that she and Carol had been cornered, and she remembered a walker falling on her and Carol screaming. In that moment, she was convinced she was dead, but somehow, she'd survived. She'd run after the truck Rick, Hershel and Carl had climbed into, but the roar of the engine and the snarls of the dead drowned out the sounds of her screams.

There had been nowhere to run. The walkers were everywhere, coming out of the woods in every direction. So she'd done the only thing she could think to do, and she'd busted the lock on the cellar door and barricaded herself inside. At least there were plenty of canned foods and dried meats to keep her fed for a while.

For days, she'd picked off countless walkers, one by one, by thrusting her knife between the cellar doors. And before long, the walkers began to wander away.

When she finally came out of the cellar, squinting into the harsh light of day, she finally got a good look at the destruction the herd had done to the property. The barn was a total loss. Just about every window in the house was busted out. Even the graves were destroyed.

She'd gathered what she could in a backpack and slung it over her shoulders. And her first instinct was to head back to the highway, to the old traffic snarl where they'd left food for Sophia. She'd headed across the field, discovering Shane's body along the way.

She'd fallen to her knees, throwing up at the sight of his bloody, decaying body, and when she'd finally come to her senses and attempted to dig a grave for him, three walkers came out of the tall grass. She'd been too weak to fight them off, so instead, she'd run, saying a silent apology that she couldn't do Shane such a simple kindness as a burial.

She couldn't count the number of nights she'd lay there awake wondering what had happened to Shane. She supposed she'd never know, because when she'd returned to the traffic snarl to find fresh tracks from various vehicles but no sight of any of her group for miles, the sinking feeling in her gut had told her that she was probably never going to see any of them again. She'd probably never get her answers.

"Mom, what's that?" Andrea pulled herself out of her own thoughts and looked down to see Dylan pointing at something straight ahead. She followed his gaze to what appeared to be several heaps in the road. She reached into her pack and felt around for her binoculars, and when she finally reached them, she peered through them to see that the heaps in the road were actually corpses. And what was more, those corpses were currently being loaded into the back of a truck by a couple of unfamiliar-looking men.

"I'm not sure, baby. Stay close."

"Are we there?"

"I don't know. I don't know." She swallowed hard and took his hand, giving it a little squeeze before stepping just into the tree line to stay out of sight as they approached the working men. As she walked, the tall, steel walls came into view.

"Mommy, the wall!"

"I see it, Dyl. Stay quiet." Over the years, they had learned how to stay quiet, especially days hiding out in the woods from the cannibals that had come after them from Terminus. So as they crept closer, the men loading the bodies in to the truck didn't suspect a thing. _Stupid_, she thought. They didn't even have guns on them. One had a spear, and the other had a sharp, sword-like weapon that was rounded on the end with what looked like an old saw blade. Then again, who was she to judge? She'd made a deal with a complete stranger and given up the three guns she had just to take a chance on some peace and safety.

It was when they heard the laughter of children that Dylan's eyes lit up.

"Mom…"

"Dylan, hush," Andrea scolded, putting her finger to her lips. But the moment she heard a twig snap behind her, she froze, feeling a cold dread settle in her belly.

"Well, well," a voice rasped from behind. "What're the two of you doin' out in the woods?" Andrea's heart began to pound, and she swallowed hard. Her tongue was thick and dry, and her fight or flight responses were failing her. She looked down at her son, and he looked up at her, and her shoulders trembled with her next breath. She held her arms up, and her pack fell from her shoulder.

"Negan sent us. Said it was safe here. I don't want any trouble. It's just me and my boy." She heard a soft chuckle, and there was something all too familiar about it, but she couldn't place it.

"Put your hands down. I ain't gonna hurt you." She slowly lowered her arms, and she heard the leaves crackle behind her. And as the air shifted around her, the man came walking around her in a wide circle. She pulled Dylan close, wrapping her arms around him and keeping him still. And when her gaze lifted to the man's face, a spark of recognition in his eyes mirrored the one in her own. She furrowed her brows. Her lips parted in a gasp, and a wide grin spread across the man's face.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. Blondie!" Andrea closed her mouth then, feeling the cold dread replaced by something she couldn't define. Anger? Relief? Maybe a little of both.

"Merle Dixon," she muttered with a shake of her head. "Of course it would be you. As if I haven't been through enough." With that, Merle laughed and reached down to pick up the pack she'd dropped on the ground.

"Come with me. This is your lucky day."

"Lucky for who?" Andrea muttered under her breath. Merle just laughed and nodded.

"Come on. You're gonna love it."


	41. Andrea

Chapter 41: Andrea

Carol had been off of her feet for forty-five minutes, and she was already going crazy. Daryl was trying so hard, but he had to ask her about ten different times where she kept this or where she put that, and she felt like she might as well get up and take him to it rather than go through the mental acrobatics to remember and explain exactly where she kept everything.

But, he'd managed to let Dog out, get everybody fed and clean all the dishes before Carol started to feel a little stir crazy. And when lost interest in the book she was reading and got up to find another one, Daryl caught her and folded his arms across his chest.

"You ain't takin' this restin' thing seriously."

"I'm fine, Daryl," she laughed. "Honestly, I think sitting still and doing nothing is doing me more harm than good. I think my blood pressure skyrockets every time you drop a dish in the kitchen."

"Only dropped three. And they didn't break," Daryl insisted. Carol smirked then, and she sat back down on the couch. She looked up at the ceiling and then back to Daryl.

"Have you checked on the kids?"

"Like twenty minutes ago."

"It's awfully quiet."

"Ain't that good?"

"Not when you have two five year olds and a toddler under one roof. I don't smell smoke, so nothing's on fire, but..."

"Moooooommyyyyy!" Luke screeched from upstairs.

"Mommy! Luke won't leave me and Henry alone!" Lydia yelled. Carol sighed and looked at Daryl.

"I got it. I'm on it," he promised. Carol shook her head and sat back on the couch, while Daryl headed upstairs to deal with the kids. And just as Carol was settling in with her new book, a soft knock came to the front door.

"It's open," Carol called, turning to watch Merle step into the house with a Cheshire grin.

"Merle?"

"Afternoon."

"Daryl's upstairs with the kids." Carol motioned toward the stairs.

"Ain't here for Daryl. You're still in charge of new intakes, right? Survivors?"

"Yeah." She put her book aside. "We have someone?"

"Oh yeah, we got someone."

"Well, Merle, as surprising as this might be to you, I trust your judgment. Why don't you take care of it?"

"Oh, I think you're gonna wanna handle this one," he chuckled.

"Why do you look so pleased with yourself?"

"Well, I went out there aimin' to fish, and I wound up with a helluva catch." Carol sighed and stood up.

"Okay, you've beat around the bush enough. What's going on?"

"Come on. Negan's house. I set 'em up there."

"Them?"

"Mmmhmm."

"S'goin' on?" Daryl came down the steps, and Carol raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

"Merle has a new intake for us. I gave him the go ahead to take care of it, but he wants me to do it."

"Baby brother, you're gonna want to be there for this one, too."

"Let me find somebody to watch the kids, and I'll be there."

"I'll take Carol on over. You catch up," Merle answered with a nod. Daryl eyed him. "Don't worry. If it weren't safe, I'd tell ya." Daryl glanced at Carol, and she gave him a little nod before turning to leave with Merle. As they walked, she looked at him, and the whole time he seemed to be on the edge of bursting.

"I've never seen you like this. You're almost…giddy."

"Hey, ain't every day I get to be Santa Clause."

"Santa? Okay, well, you're going to have to fight Jerry for the suit this year." Carol laughed, and Merle snorted.

As they stepped up onto Negan's porch, Merle rapped on the screen door. Denise opened it moments later, and she smiled at Carol.

"Good. I was hoping you'd come. Familiar faces and all that."

"Familiar faces?" Carol asked. "Merle, what's…"

"How they doin', doc?"

"They could use some fattening up and some scrubbing, but a warm shower and a hot meal will be good for both of them. They're both very healthy considering."

"You tell her?" Merle asked.

"No, I didn't want to ruin your fun," Denise grinned.

"What's going on?"

"Hey, I'm gonna get outta here." Denise held her hands up. "Carol, trust me. You're going to like this surprise." Carol looked from Denise to Merle and then back to the doctor.

"Alright. Let's go," Carol huffed. "All these secrets. It's starting to feel like we're in high school." She reached for the screen door, and Merle stopped her.

"Ah! Hold your horses."

"Give me a fucking break, Merle," Carol snapped. "I don't have time to sit around playing guessing games. Just let me in."

"Hey, Blondie! You decent?" Merle hollered in. Getting no response, Merle shrugged and took it as an ok to go on in. He pulled open the screen door and let Carol in first. She stepped into the foyer and looked around for a moment, before she heard soft voices coming from the living room. She looked at Merle briefly before stepping down the hall and turning to peer into the room.

Curled up on the couch was a pale, blonde woman with a little boy curled up right next to her with an apple in his hand. His eyes were wide as he looked around the room, and for a moment, Carol didn't understand why Merle had made such a production of bringing her all the way over. But when the woman looked up, Carol felt like somebody's hit her square in the chest and knocked the wind out of her.

Andrea sat up a little, and a gasp fell from her lips. The only thing Carol could think as Andrea stood up was how the last time she saw her, she was being overrun by walkers. How she survived, Carol would never know, but the flood of emotions hit her like a tidal wave.

"Oh my God," Carol gasped, as she crossed the room and threw her arms around the other woman. Andrea gasped softly and hugged Carol tight.

"You're alive," she breathed. "I thought you were…"

"I thought you were, too," Carol whispered. "That walker fell on you, and I thought…oh God, I'm sorry."

"No, you did what you had to do. Don't be sorry," Andrea choked out. "I don't even know how I survived." Her shoulders trembled when she let out a sigh of relief. Carol gave her another squeeze before pulling out of the hug.

"You've been out there this whole time?" She blinked back tears, and Andrea nodded.

"Pretty much. I had to take shelter in the cellar on Hershel's farm. I was down there about a month before the herd cleared out."

"God, Andrea. We looked everywhere."

"We?" Andrea asked. "Everyone's here?"

"No. No, um.: She shook her head and then looked to the boy. "Who's this?" Andrea motioned for Dylan to get up and come to her. He did, taking another big bite of his apple. "Carol, this is Dylan. My son." Carol's eyes widened, and she looked from Andrea to the boy.

"It's nice to meet you, Dylan."

"Dyl, this is my friend Carol. She's one of the people I was with before you were born."

"Hi," he said shyly.

"Hi," Carol whispered, smiling. "Dylan, you must be…what? Four? Five?"

"Five," the boy said with a nod before looking up at his mom.

"Yeah, five," Andrea sniffled.

"Dylan, a little boy about your age lives here. Henry's staying with me for a while, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing some of his toys. They're upstairs." Dylan looked to his mother. She smiled and nodded.

"You can go." Dylan hurried off toward the stairs, and Andrea rubbed her hands over her face. "This must be Negan's place." At Carol's surprised look, she turned and sat back down on the couch. "We met out there. He told me about this place, and I had to come see for myself." Carol moved to sit down next to her, turning in her seat to face her.

"Dylan. He's yours?"

"He's mine." Andrea's face lit up when she spoke of him, and she smiled. "Twenty-odd hours of labor in a cold little house. All by myself."

"God, I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone. So sorry, Andrea." She sniffled and shook her head.

"By the looks of it, you'll be going through it soon. Though clearly not alone."

"This is number four."

"Four?!" Andrea balked.

"I have a little girl. Lydia. We found her a few months after the farm. And then Luke. I didn't think it would happen, and then it did. And now this one. Never say never, I guess."

"Wow. And you've been behind these walls since that winter?"

"There weren't always walls. Just fences at first. The walls came later. And then Negan and his wife came along, and over time, more people found us, or we found them, and here we are now."

"Here you are."

"Here _we_ are," Carol insisted. "You'll stay, won't you?"

"For the first time in Dylan's entire life, we're _both _going to be able to sleep soundly tonight. Thanks to Negan. And Merle. And you." She wiped at her eyes. "I'm so happy to see you."

"I'm happy to see you. I'm glad you're here. I'm just glad you're ok. I only wish we'd found you. We looked for everyone. For a long time. But we never…"

"God," Andrea whispered.

"They were just gone."

"I can't imagine." Andrea swallowed the lump in her throat, and she shook her head. "I know they say opposites attract, but clearly something changed. Merle was a piece of work when I met him."

"He still is," Carol laughed. Then her eyes went wide. Andrea thought she and _Merle_ were…oh _no._ "Oh. God, no. No, not Merle. Merle found _us_."

"Us?"

"Daryl saved my life that night. He helped me get away from the farm, and it was just us."

"You and…_Daryl_?"

"The one and only," Carol smiled.

"I've missed a lot."

"So have I. I didn't know you were..." Carol cleared her throat. "Did you know you were pregnant at the farm?"

"No. No, I found out later." She could see the question in Carol's eyes. "Shane." Carol nodded slowly, thinking back to the farm, back when she was just finding her voice but staying in the background and observing. She remembered Andrea and Shane and how they gravitated toward one another, two lost individuals trying to find a place. "The others are just gone?"

"We know they stayed at a prison for a while. When Merle found us, he explained he was staying with some people led by a guy who called himself Governor. I guess they got into it with Rick's group, and it ended pretty badly. Hershel's dead. Beth, too. The rest? I don't know."

"I don't know about them," Andrea murmured. "But I know about Terminus. We found out the hard way. Barely made it out alive. We saw what they did to those people, how they hung them up on meat hooks like animals."

"We've heard of them," Carol bit out. "We haven't had a run in with them, but we've heard of them."

"They chased us for a long time, until finally, I had the advantage. They followed us into an old grain elevator one night. I locked them in and set the place on fire." She looked toward the ceiling. "I still feel like there's more of them out there. Sometimes, it feels like they're still watching me." She shook her head. "It's safe here?"

"Safest place since the farm. We had a death recently, but one of ours was bitten and didn't say anything. And because of that, Negan's wife was killed."

"That's awful." She looked down at her hands in her lap. "Where is Daryl?"

"Rounding up a sitter for the kids," Carol grinned.

"Daryl Dixon's a daddy. What's that like?" Carol laughed.

"He might surprise you. You should have seen him with her, Andrea. Lydia. When we brought her home, he was half afraid to hold her. But I think the second he did, he just fell in love with being a dad. He's so good with her."

"Speaking of…I should check on Dylan."

"Yeah. You two are welcome to stay here. I don't know when Negan's coming back, but I get the feeling it may be a while. I know it'll be an adjustment, but I'd love it if you and Dylan would come over for supper tonight. You don't have to. We can do it another night. It just feels so good to see an old friend after so long."

"That would be nice," Andrea murmured. "Thank you, Carol."

"It's the least I can do." She reached over and took Andrea's hand. "Whatever you need, Daryl and I live right across the way. And Merle's not far from us. You need anything at all, we'll see what we can do to help. Take a few days, and then we can start introducing you to everyone."

"Okay," Andrea agreed. "A few days. I might just sleep right through them."

"I wouldn't be surprised. Get some rest. You've earned it." The two women rose and embraced, and Carol breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful for the return of a friend she'd thought lost for so long.


	42. Reunions

Chapter 42: Reunions

"Look at you." Andrea laughed when Daryl pulled her in for a hug. "Never took Daryl Dixon for a hugger. How things change."

"Good to see ya," Daryl murmured before pulling out of the hug. "I swear, if we'd known you was still on the farm, we'd…"

"It's the past, Daryl. And I wouldn't have expected anybody to risk their neck to come back through that herd. You had no way of knowing I was still alive." She stood on the porch of Daryl and Carol's house, and Dylan stood quietly at her side. She looked down at him with a smile. "Dylan, this is another good friend of mine. This is Daryl."

"Can I see it?" Dylan asked, eyes wide.

"See what?" Daryl asked, glancing at Carol who just shrugged.

"The scar."

"What scar?" he asked.

"From where my mommy shot you." Daryl looked at Andrea who grimaced.

"Some bedtime story you tell your kid," he smirked.

"Hey. I was teaching him how to shoot, and that was the 'make sure you know what you're shooting at' lesson."

"Sorry, kid. Ain't much of a scar under all this hair." Dylan grinned and peered around Daryl as if looking for something.

"Looks like the clothes fit," Carol commented, looking at Dylan and then Andrea.

"I feel bad living in this guy's house and wearing his dead wife's clothes." She looked at Dylan. "He's still got a little growing to do."

"Don't feel bad," Carol insisted. "Lucy would have wanted you to have them. She was one of the kindest people I ever met. I think you really would have liked her." She smiled sadly. "We have plenty of other clothes if you'd feel more comfortable picking through them. I'll take you to where we keep supplies tomorrow."

"Thank you." Dylan peered around Daryl again, and Andrea noticed. "Dyl?" He looked up at her and crooked his finger at her for her to kneel down so he could whisper in her ear. When she did, she chuckled and nodded her head. "I think you're in luck, kiddo." She looked to Daryl and Carol. "He wants to know if there are any kids around."

"Kids? In this house?" Daryl asked, looking to Carol. She grinned.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll find one or two wandering around the place before too long." She glanced across the lot to see Merle coming over carrying Luke on his shoulders, while Lydia and Henry ran along ahead of him.

"Ah, and here they are now," Carol beamed. "Lydia! Henry! Come here. I have someone for you to meet." Lydia was the first up the steps, and she grinned up at her mother. "Lyddie, this is our good friend Andrea and her son Dylan. Dylan's just about your age."

"Hi," Lydia said shyly.

"And this is Henry." Carol put her hand on Henry's shoulder. "Henry, your daddy sent Andrea and Dylan here."

"You saw my dad?" Henry asked with wide eyes.

"We did," Andrea murmured, smiling sadly at him. "He says he misses you a lot."

"Is he coming back?"

"I'm not sure when, buddy. But he wanted me to tell you he misses you a lot." Henry just looked up at Carol.

"I know you miss him," she whispered. "We all do. He just needs some time, right? Like we talked about?" Henry nodded. "He left you with us, because he knows we'll keep you safe until he comes back." Her voice faltered on the last word, because she knew there was a good chance she was lying to the boy. There was a good chance they might never see Negan again. If he survived out there alone, he might find it too painful to come back. And if he did come back, how could he just pick right back off where he left off with his son? His leaving was something the boy would never forget. Carol hoped that everything would work out the way it was supposed to. Until then, she was prepared to keep the boy safe like she would her own children.

"C'mon, Dylan. You can play with us in my room!" Lydia offered, taking the boy's hand. Dylan looked up at his mother. Andrea nodded and smiled encouragingly at her son.

"Go on. You three have fun." The children ran off, and Merle stepped up to the group with Luke laughing on his shoulders.

"Ah, and _this_ one," Carol grinned, reaching for her son, "is Luke." Andrea looked at Daryl and then to Carol, and then she settled her gaze on the sweet little boy who reached out to his mother. Merle eased the boy up off his shoulders and down into his mother's arms.

"My God," Andrea murmured. "He looks so much like Sophia." Carol felt a pang in her chest and smiled as the sting rose in her throat and threatened to come out as a choked cry. "Those freckles and that hair. But those eyes? Definitely his daddy's. That nose is his mama's." She gently touched her fingertip to Luke's nose, and he giggled. "He's beautiful."

"Thank you," Carol beamed. She looked toward the house. "I hope you're hungry. I made plenty for supper." Andrea nodded. "You want to come in?"

"I'll be in in a minute. Just need to catch my breath. You all go on." Carol reached out and gave Andrea's hand a squeeze before letting Luke down to lead them into the house. Daryl followed behind his wife, and Andrea couldn't help but smile when she watched him hold the door open for her and kiss her on the cheek as she passed by him.

"Pretty picture, ain't they?" Merle asked, stepping up beside Andrea and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I'm happy for them," Andrea sighed. "If anybody deserves some happiness in this messed up world, it's those two." She eyed Merle. "How'd you find them, anyway?"

"By accident. Long story."

"You did that up on that roof, didn't you?" she asked, nodding toward the prosthetic on his hand.

"Can still feel that saw cutting through the bone," he said with a nod. "Hell, I heard about wild animals chewin' off a let when they get caught in a trap, but I never thought I'd be in the same situation. Survived somehow, and here I am."

"Uncle Merle. Who'd have ever thought you'd turn out to be good with kids?"

"Hey, I ain't the damn devil."

"I didn't say you were. But you were a little bit…"

"You can say it. I was an asshole. Still am."

"I was going to say _brash_, but asshole covers it, yeah."

"Look, I ain't proud of what happened up on that roof that day. I said a bunch of shit I could kick my own ass for sayin'."

"Did you mean it? The things you said to T-Dog? Martinez? Me?"

"Hell, maybe I did then. But that ain't me now." Merle rubbed the back of his neck. "Tell ya the truth, I still ain't sure how Carol and my brother kept me on here. Got my ass kicked a couple times, straightened me out a little. This goddamn world's got enough monsters. Don't need one more goin' around makin' everybody miserable."

"So this is the refined, new Merle Dixon, then?"

"Refined my ass, Blondie," Merle snorted. "I ain't the man I was on that rooftop. That's all I can tell ya. Still said and did a lot of bad shit I can't ever make up for. But, I can leave that in the past and try and do right with what time I got left."

"Well, it's a start," Andrea said with a little nod. She stepped up to the door and turned to look over her shoulder. "For what it's worth, I like this you better than the you on that roof." She turned then and walked into the house, leaving Merle to ponder that for a moment before he headed inside the join his family.


	43. Sleepover

Chapter 43: Sleepover

"You really don't wanna know?" Daryl asked, walking hand-in-hand with his wife as they left Denise's. They'd gone for what was likely to be the last ultrasound to make sure the baby was growing properly. Carol was at the halfway point, about twenty weeks, and Denise said she'd gotten a pretty clear shot of the baby's sex before the power went on the fritz. The bad thing was that the machine took up a lot of juice, so they didn't have access to it for long periods of time.

"No," Carol shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me, Daryl."

"Well, it don't matter to me either."

"Well, I thought you were so certain it was going to be a girl so you'd win the bed, and I'd have to potty train her."

"I know she's a girl," Daryl snorted. He chewed his bottom lip. Carol rolled her eyes.

"Oh for goodness sakes, go ask Denise if you want to know so bad. I don't mind. Just don't tell me. I like the surprise at the end of an excruciating seventeen hour labor."

"Nah, if you wanna be surprised, we'll wait," Daryl muttered. "Know it's a girl though."

"I'm glad you're so certain. What do we even need Denise for?" Daryl snorted at that, and Carol gave his hand a squeeze. A moment later, she gasped, putting her hand on her belly.

"You ok?" he asked, quickly putting his hand over hers.

"Yeah," she panted, "that was a strong one." She lifted her hand and guided his to the spot where she'd felt the powerful kick. Moments later, Daryl felt the thump against his palm, and he chuckled.

"She's strong like her mama." Daryl leaned in to kiss his wife, and she grinned against his lips.

"Lydia's so excited about the baby. I don't think Luke gets it yet. But I have a feeling Lydia thinks this baby's hers," Carol laughed. "Henry's getting excited, too."

"He had another nightmare last night," Daryl murmured, holding the front door open for Carol and following her into their home.

"What?" she asked, eyes widening in worry. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You were so tired, and I didn't wanna bother you."

"Did he go back to sleep ok?"

"Yeah. Had to read him a couple stories, but he settled down after a while. He asked me somethin'. He asked me if I was his new dad."

"God," Carol murmured. "Poor kid." She shook her head. "It's been over a month. I hoped he'd be back by now."

"I feel like I'm lyin' to him every time I tell him he'll be back soon. Maybe he's not coming back. Maybe we just gotta accept that."

"I know. I still want to believe he's coming back. Henry lost one parent already. He needs his dad."

"Well, until then, I don't mind filling in." Carol pulled her arms around Daryl and kissed him softly.

"I love you."

"Me too," he chuckled, chasing her lips for one more kiss.

The screen door flew open, startling them both, and Henry and Lydia came running in with Dylan.

"Whoa. Hey! No running in the house," Daryl scolded.

"Sorry, Daddy," Lydia giggled. "Can Dylan stay over tonight? Please?"

"Yeah, please?" Dylan asked.

"Have you asked your mom?" Carol asked.

"Well, no."

"Well, I'm not saying yes until she does," Carol warned. "If she says no, it's no."

"She won't say no, Mommy."

"And can we camp out in the back yard?" Henry asked.

"We'll see," Carol sighed. "But you need to get permission from Andrea first!"

"Okay!" Lydia hollered, running off, leading the two boys back outside. The screen door slammed after them, and Carol grimaced.

"Maybe Andrea'll host the sleepover, and you and me and get some alone time."

"Alone time? I don't understand," Carol joked. "Oh, you mean that thing we used to have before we had a house full of kids? The thing that got us _more _kids?"

"Well, we ain't gotta worry about that tonight," he chuckled, putting his hand on her belly.

"Yeah, you're so proud of yourself," Carol muttered, rolling her eyes before grinning at him. Then she raised an eyebrow. "Maybe we can get Merle to watch Luke, and we can sleep in tomorrow."

"Sleep? Got lots of stuff planned with you, but sleep ain't one of 'em."

"We're not as young as we used to be, Pookie."

"That a challenge?"

"No," she laughed. "Let's save the challenges for when I'm not pregnant, ok?"

"Fair enough," he muttered with a little shrug. Carol kissed him again, and once again, the front door banged open. This time, it was Merle with Luke.

"Oh, hey. Didn't mean to interrupt the lovebirds, but I've done chased this little rug rat around the whole damn perimeter twice. He needs a nap and maybe a bell around his neck so you can keep track of him." He was almost out of breath, and Carol couldn't help the laugh.

"Give me my kid." She reached for Luke, and the boy yawned before willingly going to his mom. She glanced slyly at Daryl before looking back to Merle. "You wouldn't want to babysit tonight, would you?"

"Hell, no," Merle snorted. "Got myself a date."

"A…date?"

"Well, I was gonna help Andrea fix the leak in her roof."

"And that's a date?"

"Well, hell, I'm gonna bring her some of my finest whisky."

"Yeah, drinkin' on the rooftop. Sounds like a Merle Dixon kinda date," Daryl pointed out, getting nudged in the ribs by Carol.

"Ever hear of flowers?" Carol asked.

"That how my baby brother wooed you?" Merle asked with a wink. Daryl scoffed, but Carol shrugged.

"Technically, he did bring me flowers. _A _flower." Her fondest memory from the farm was the moment he brought her that Cherokee Rose. She glanced at Daryl, and for the first time in a long while, he blushed. She knew he was in a whole other headspace back in those days, and he hadn't had a clue that even back then, back on Hershel's farm, Carol was falling in love with him.

"Flowers, huh," Merle muttered. "You kidding? She'd throw 'em in my face. She knows that ain't me."

"Well, then just be yourself," Carol replied with a shrug. "And I don't mean the crude asshole Merle Dixon. I mean the Merle Dixon that helped build this place, that would do anything to help his family, that knows how to make his niece and nephew laugh. That's the Merle you are now. Nobody's who they used to be, Merle. Just remember that."

...

Of course, a thunderstorm was looming, so Merle followed through on his plans to go fix the leak in Andrea's roof. So, the Dixons had a full house. And with rain incoming, that washed out plans for a camp out in the backyard. Instead, Daryl had moved the furniture around in the living room to make space for sleeping bags, and after the kids changed into their pajamas, Dog curled up by the couch, and Luke came running in with his favorite blanket.

"I sleep here, too!" he insisted.

"No," Lydia whined. "Does he have to, Daddy?"

"Luke," Daryl warned. "You're not big enough for a sleepover yet."

"Pwease, Daddy?" he begged.

"Not this time, buddy."

"Come on. Mama will take you upstairs, and I'll read you two bedtime stories. How would you like that?" Carol asked, picking the boy up. Luke pouted, and Carol gave Daryl a look that told him it was going to be a long, long night.

"You go on up. I'll be up soon," he promised.

"Goodnight, guys."

"Night, Mommy."

"G'night, Mrs. Dixon," Dylan called.

"Night, Miss Carol," Henry murmured sleepily, yawning.

"Think you're gonna be out before too long," Daryl chuckled. "You got everything you need?" Henry nodded. "Good."

"Daddy, will you tell us a story?" Lydia asked.

"Thought that's what sleepovers were for. Tellin' your own stories and scarin' each other."

"We're five, Daddy," Lydia insisted. "Tell us about the little girl in the woods."

"You wanna hear that one again?" Daryl asked with a sigh.

"I wanna hear," Dylan agreed.

"Alright." He cleared his throat and looked at his daughter. He'd come up with that story on a whim one night when he was too exhausted to get creative. The first thing he could think of was Sophia running around in those woods, and while he couldn't twist a happy ending out of that memory, he at least used it as a starting point in his story. "Alright. Here goes. You ready?"

"Yeah!" the kids cheered in unison.

"Alright. Once there was a little girl named S…Amy."

"Daddy, her name's Sophia, like my sister, remember?" Lydia insisted. Leave it to Lydia to remember that little detail.

"That's right. Sophia. Anyway, one day, Sophia was playing with her daddy in the woods. They walked the trails and looked for leaves and bugs and things like that. Well, Sophia wanted to play hide and seek. Her daddy thought it was a real bad idea, but it was her most favorite game to play. So Sophia went to hide, and when her daddy counted to ten and tried to find her, it was so quiet, he couldn't figure out where to start looking."

"And then she got…"

"Who's tellin' the story here?" Daryl asked.

"Sorry, Daddy," Lydia grinned.

"Anyway, Sophia was so good at hiding, she stayed there for a long time. A whole five minutes. But then she couldn't hear her daddy calling for her anymore. So, she got scared, and she came out of her hiding spot. She looked and looked, and she didn't see her daddy anywhere. So she started yelling for him. She yelled 'Dad. Dad! I'm over here, Dad. Come find me!' But her daddy didn't come. But she remembered from all the talks they had in the woods that if she ever got lost from her daddy, she should stay put, because if she wandered off, she might get even more lost. So she waited. She got so scared, and she started crying, but she waited. She didn't like being lost in the woods, and she hoped her daddy would come back soon. And sure enough, she started to hear his voice again. 'Sophia!' Well, Sophia was so happy her dad found her that she started jumping up and down and waving her arms and calling out for her dad. And he followed her voice until he saw her. Well, guess what? Her dad was just as scared as she was, and he came and scooped her up in his arms and hugged her for a long, long time. And when he finally let her go, he was a little mad that she hadn't listened and went to play the game, but he was so happy he found her he couldn't be too mad for long."

"And then what happened?" Dylan asked with wide eyes.

"Well, Sophia and her daddy went home. And all along the way, he told her he was proud of her for staying put when she got lost. She was scared, but she didn't run away. And her daddy found her. She was safe, and that was all that mattered. From then on, she only played hide and seek at home where she knew she couldn't get lost."

"And…?" Lydia urged.

"And, her daddy taught her how to use the stars to find her way home if it ever happened again. And they all lived happily ever after."

"Another one!" Dylan urged.

"I'm all tapped out. You guys use your imaginations and make up a story, alright? We're just upstairs if you need anything." He leaned down and kissed the top of Lydia's head before he started for the stairs. "Night, guys. Have good dreams."

"Was that a true story?" Henry whispered to Lydia.

"I don't think so," Lydia murmured, curling up in her sleeping bag. "But my daddy's gonna teach me those things someday."

"You're lucky," Henry murmured. "You're lucky you still have your daddy."

"You have one, too," Lydia insisted. "He'll be back."

"I like your dad, Lydia," Dylan spoke up. "I never met mine, but my mom says I look like him."

"Well, you guys can share my dad. He's a really good dad." Lydia's eyes widened. "Dylan, maybe my Uncle Merle will marry your mom, and he could be your dad. He's _really_ fun."

"Maybe," Dylan shrugged.

"What about me?" Henry asked. "What if my dad doesn't come back? What if he's lost out there?"

"Well," Lydia thought. "My mommy and daddy can be your mommy and daddy. I got a brother already, but you could be my brother, too." She smiled at Henry, and he smiled back, and it wasn't long before the children were still, all worries pushed aside by the warm comfort of dreamless sleep.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading, guys! Please let me know what you think! _


	44. Fishing Trip

Chapter 44: Fishing Trip

Carol was thankful the kids weren't early risers the next morning. They were all sleeping curled up in their sleeping bags when she and Daryl came downstairs with Luke to let Dog out. While Carol kept Luke from getting underfoot by putting him in his booster seat at the table, Daryl helped her with breakfast.

"Any plans today?" Carol asked, whisking the eggs at the counter.

"Was gonna go see if Merle wanted any help today."

"He's going on a run?"

"Nah, just goin' hunting. Lots of deer in the area. Thought maybe we could cure the meat, make jerky and save it up."

"Sounds good," Carol said with a smile. "Been a while since I had deer jerky." She thought for a moment. "Oh, that reminds me. Can you go down to the cellar and get me a jar of the pickles we canned last year?" At Daryl's look, she made a face. "Hey, it's a craving."

"How'd you get from deer jerky to pickles?"

"Because they would be delicious together." Daryl made a face, and Carol laughed.

"Hey. Don't judge me. Your child is hungry." Daryl smirked and leaned in to kiss her before rubbing her belly and leaning down to kiss it.

"You're makin' your daddy crazy with these cravings, kiddo." As if on cue, the baby kicked, catching them both by surprise. "Yep. Definitely a girl. She's got her mama's attitude."

"Hey now," Carol warned, giving him a playful nudge on the shoulder, and he straightened up and leaned in to give her a kiss.

"Anyway, I'm thinkin' we never had a honeymoon."

"What?" Carol asked. "Where did _that_ come from?" She poured the whisked eggs into the frying pan.

"Well, we didn't have one, did we?"

"We didn't have a wedding, either," Carol laughed. "I'm definitely not complaining. It was perfect, just us." She smiled then. "Besides, it's not like we can drop everything and go on a cruise somewhere."

"Nah, I was just thinkin' maybe we'd have Merle take the kids for a couple days, and it'd just be you and me."

"So, not a honeymoon. Just home alone so we can screw around?"

"I can bring ya flowers and chocolates if ya want."

"So romantic," Carol giggled. "You don't have to do all that. I'd be happy to screw around with you anytime, Pookie." She caught the blush in his cheeks, and it made her smile. He didn't blush as often as he had in the early days of their relationship, but it still warmed her heart.

Carol turned her attention back to breakfast, while Daryl started set the table and went to wake up the kids. She couldn't help but chuckle to herself thinking about how much had changed since the beginning of the end. Sometimes, it felt strange to reconcile the image of Daryl Dixon playing with his kids and reading them bedtime stories with the image of Daryl Dixon, bloody and exhausted, walking through a field with a string of walker ears around his neck. In the scheme of things, it hadn't been that long ago, but it felt like two lifetimes ago.

Sometimes, it took her breath away when she stopped and thought about everything they'd been through and everything they'd created in the last few years. Sometimes, thinking back on life before the farm was like trying to recall a dream or a distant memory. Sometimes, it felt so strange, like peeking into a past life. And sometimes that feeling made her heart sink, because she'd healed and moved on. And while she could still remember the softness of Sophia's skin and her tiny little feet that first day in the hospital after she was born, and she could still remember the sound of her voice and the sound of her laugh, the memories almost felt like someone else's. She wondered if her daughter knew that, wherever. She wondered if she even believed in an afterlife anymore.

It had been a comfort at first, thinking of Sophia in a warm, bright place like Heaven. But the more time passed and the uglier the world got, the more she wondered what the point was. Life was brutal, and death was messy, and what was the point? She wasn't that woman who sat in a church and begged God to spare her little girl. That woman was a ghost of her past. But still, Sophia was with her.

Every time she looked at Luke, she saw Sophia. And she thought about what kind of a person she'd be now if she'd lived. The strange thing was, Carol couldn't picture her daughter grown. She could only see that sweet face of the little twelve year old that went into the woods and never came out.

Every time Daryl held her hand, she remembered those early days after they'd found Lydia, when Carol's nightmares plagued her nearly every night. She remembered how good it felt to sleep next to him and feel like everything was going to be alright.

"You alright?" Daryl's voice broke her train of thought, and she turned to see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm fine. Just in my own little world." Daryl stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, cradling her belly in his hands. He kissed the back of her neck, and she closed her eyes, leaning back against him.

"Glad you said yes all those years ago," he murmured. "Don't know what I woulda done if ya hadn't."

"Well, that's something you'll never have to worry about," she murmured, turning in his arms and draping her arms over his shoulders.

"Love you," he murmured, kissing her softly. She grinned against his lips.

"Me too."

...

"Anything you want me to look for out there?" Merle asked as he tossed a couple of shotguns in the crowded back of the old pickup truck. He'd packed enough hunting and camping supplies for what was only going to be a three to four hour hunt at most. But, he knew as well as anybody that it was better to be prepared.

"No, I think I'm good," Andrea said with a little shrug. "There's plenty of canned goods in the cellar."

"C'mon. There must be somethin' you got a hankerin' for. Rabbit? Squirrel?" Andrea shuddered.

"I could go the rest of my life without eating another squirrel."

"Beggars can't be choosers."

"Thankfully, I don't have to beg anymore, do I?" Andrea said with a little smirk from where she sat on the porch steps of her home. Merle sighed. She wasn't making this easy. "I do like rabbit, though."

"Rabbit. I'll bring one back for ya. Nice, juicy, fat one."

"You know what I miss?"

"What's that?"

"Fish. Do you know how long it's been since I've had catfish or even trout? Amy and I used to catch them by the boatful. The problem is, every fishing hole I came across out there was filled with walkers. Didn't want to chance it." She put her hand on her growling stomach.

"I'll find ya some trout," Merle offered. "There's gotta be some streams out there in the woods that ain't clogged up with walker guts."

"Thanks for the visual," Andrea groaned. "Don't waste your time for me. I was just talking."

"Now wait a minute. I seem to recall seeing a nice, secluded spot last time I went hunting. Didn't have my fishin' pole with me, but the water looked clean. If I find it again, I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Merle."

"Maybe I can catch enough we can have a fish fry tonight."

"Uh, maybe…not. Just dinner is ok." At Merle's questioning look, she sighed. "We had a fish fry the night Amy was killed."

"Hell, I didn't know."

"No, you wouldn't have known. It's ok, really. But you're welcome to come for supper tonight, with or without fish. Dylan likes the stories you tell. And I appreciate your restraint when you tone down the language." Merle chuckled at that.

"He's a good kid."

"He is. He's the only thing that kept me going the last five years. I'd have probably died a long time ago if it wasn't for him."

"Yeah, them young'uns have a way of changin' you and makin' ya see things different."

"That they do," Andrea agreed with a smile. She looked past him then and nodded. "Looks like you've got company." Merle turned then to see Daryl heading over toward them, and he narrowed his eyes at his young brother.

"Mornin'," Daryl greeted him. "Andrea."

"Hey, Daryl," she smiled.

"Need somethin' baby brother?"

"Was just wondering if you wanted some company today," Daryl offered.

"Always hunt better on my own."

"You can't shoot for shit anymore," Daryl pointed out.

"Still shoot better'n you," Merle laughed. Daryl smirked, and Merle clapped him on the back. "Second set of eyes might not hurt. Alright. Go get your shit. Grab a fishin' pole."

"We're fishing?" Daryl asked, squinting into the morning light. "We ain't fishermen." Merle leaned in close.

"Just play along, for Christ sakes. The lady wants fish for supper," he whispered. Daryl's mouth twitched into an amused grin, and he nodded his head.

"Sure thing. Think there's an old fishin' pole in the attic. I'll go blow the dust off it." Merle glared at him, but Daryl just nodded his head at Andrea and headed off toward the house.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll meet in ten minutes, and we'll head out!" Merle turned back toward Andrea, who was getting up off the porch steps.

"Be careful out there," she said with a nod. She turned toward the door but stopped herself. She looked back to Merle with an amused grin on her face. "When's the last time you went fishing?"

"Oh, ain't been that long, really. I'd say...a year maybe?"

"Hmm. Well, don't go out of your way or anything."

"You want fish? I'll catch you a fish, Blondie."

"Sardines out of the can don't count," she laughed. Merle scoffed, and Andrea waved at him. Just before she turned, he could have sworn he saw something in her eyes. Maybe it was the slight lift of her brow, the genuine smile, the way she actually didn't seem repulsed by his presence. Whatever the case was, his heart did a little dance in his chest, and it nearly knocked him on his ass for a second. This was a new feeling.

For the first time in his life, Merle Dixon had a goddamn genuine feeling for a woman that wasn't fueled by drink or drugs or just desperation for a quick fuck in the bathroom of a stale old bar. Oh, he was attracted to her. He'd been attracted to her since he'd first seen her all the way back at the quarry all those years ago. But that was a lifetime ago, and he was a different man. Back then? She despised him. But now? Now she was actually smiling at him. Laughing. Inviting him to dinner? Christ, she was even _teasing_ him, and the old Merle wouldn't have needed much more than that to seal the deal, but for the first time in his life, he felt a little afraid.

He wanted what Daryl had. He wanted the wife and the kids and the whole fucking picket fence picture. He'd never been good enough for any of that. But the way Andrea had just looked at him had frozen him right in his tracks. And he was scared shitless that maybe, just maybe there was something there, and he'd be nothing but a goddamn fool if he messed it all up.

...

The kids were playing outside when Daryl came back into the house to grab a few things to take on the trip. When he came down the stairs with a fishing pole, Carol couldn't help but grin.

"What?" he asked, her slinging his fishing pole over one shoulder and his crossbow over the other.

"You, uh, planning on catching some fish today, Daryl?"

"I don't fish," Daryl snorted.

"Oh, I know you don't. I've _seen_ you fish. For a skilled hunter, you kind of…"

"You can say it," Daryl muttered.

"Okay. You kind of _suck_ at fishing." She giggled when Daryl attempted a glare, but he shrugged it off. She had a point.

"I ain't _that_ bad."

"No. No, you're not _that_ bad, but trust me. Stick to hunting."

"Aw, Merle's got a burr up his ass about it."

"What?" A laugh fell from Carol's lips, and Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Andrea wants fish. Merle's gonna break his fuckin' neck tryin' to get her one."

"Oh. Oh, can I come? I have to see this. Too bad it's the end of the world, because this would be _great _for one of those funny home video shows. You remember those?"

"Merle's got a thing for her, I think."

"That's not supposed to be a secret, is it? Because it's pretty obvious." Daryl leaned in to kiss her.

"Don't tell him that. He'll get weird about it. He ain't never had a relationship before that lasted more than a half hour. If I know my brother, he's about to shit himself, 'cause he don't have a clue what he's supposed to do."

"Aw, I think it's sweet. He wants what you have. Don't give him a hard time."

"You kiddin'? That's all he ever gave me growin' up. Ain't right if I can't have some revenge." Carol giggled at that, and Daryl kissed her again. "Love you."

"Love you," she whispered against his lips, grinning when he kissed her again. When he pulled away, she eyed him. "Did you get my pickles?"

"Two jars, cabinet by the stove."

"You're the best," she swooned. Daryl chuckled and gave her hand a squeeze.

"See you tonight." He turned and left then, and Carol followed him to the foyer, peering out the window as he climbed in the pickup with Merle and they headed off toward the gates. She noticed him peeking through the mirror on the passenger's side door, and she waved. He caught sight of her and waved back before Merle turned off out of sight.

She started tidying up around the house, picking up Luke's toys before heading upstairs to check on him. He was playing quietly in his room, which sometimes spelled trouble. But, in this instance, he was building towers with his blocks.

It wasn't often the house was so quiet, but with Luke playing nicely by himself and the other kids playing outside, Carol had a moment to just stop and take a breath.

It wasn't long before the screen door was slamming shut for what seemed like the hundredth time that week, and Carol cringed at the sound. The kids were always in a hurry to go and to come back, and they always forgot to let the screen shut quietly.

"Lydia?" Carol called down the stairs. "Please don't slam the door!"

"Sorry, Mommy!" Lydia came rushing up the stairs.

"Slow down, honey. What's the rush?"

"I came to tell Henry to hurry up. Me and Dylan want to see the horses." Lydia started toward Luke's room.

"He's not in there," Carol pointed out. Lydia frowned and peeked in, seeing Luke playing by himself.

"Well, where is he?"

"You three were just playing outside."

"He came inside to find a toy a while ago. He got bored playing tag, I think." Carol felt her heart sink in her chest.

"How long ago?"

"I don't know," Lydia shrugged. "A while. Before daddy left, I think."

"Lydia. This is important. When was the last time you saw Henry?" She knelt down in front of Lydia an and gently put her hands on the child's shoulders. "Think, Lyddie."

"I think it was when Daddy was with Uncle Merle and Andrea."

"Are you sure?" Carol asked.

"Uh-huh." Carol stood quickly, and Dylan came rushing up the steps.

"Lydia, let's go see the horses!" he urged.

"No, no, you two need to stay inside. Dylan, have you seen Henry?"

"Not since we played tag a little bit ago." Carol swallowed hard, feeling a little dizzy. Her heart began to race, and she closed her eyes. Her heart was pounding in her ears. But she took a deep breath and told herself he couldn't have gone far. After all, there were only so many places in a walled community that a child could go. Still, something felt wrong.

"Okay. I need you two to listen carefully. I need you to stay with Luke. I need you to look for Henry all over the house."

"Like Hide and Seek?" Lydia asked.

"Yes, baby. Just like Hide and Seek. But I need you to watch Luke and make sure he holds your hand the whole time. Don't open the baby gate unless you're holding his hand. Do _not_ leave this house."

"Mommy, is Henry…"

"Just do what I asked, ok?" Carol asked sternly. Lydia nodded, her eyes going wide with worry.

"C'mon, Lydia," Dylan urged, taking her hand. "We'll find him." They hurried off to start in the farthest bedroom, while Carol headed down the stairs, being mindful of the baby gate, and with each step, she felt a cold panic settle in her heart.

She pushed outside, taking a few deep breaths as she looked around for any signs of the boy.

"Henry!" she called, getting the attention of Jerry and Tara who were close by.

"Everything ok?" Jerry asked.

"Jerry, have you seen Henry?"

"No. Sorry, I haven't."

"I saw him playing with Lydia and Dylan a little bit ago," Tara offered. "Maybe he's playing hide and seek?"

"Maybe," Carol murmured, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "Henry! Come out. The game's over!" Nothing.

"What's going on?" Denise asked, stepping out of the infirmary as a few of the survivors came hurrying over to see what the commotion was about.

"Has anybody seen Negan's boy Henry?" Jerry asked. A few murmurs from the crowd were in the negative, others mentioned seeing him playing with Lydia and Dylan.

"Carol?" Carol turned quickly to see Andrea coming over. "What's going on?"

"Henry. We can't find him. The kids were playing, and…"

"Where's Dylan?" Andrea's hand flew to her chest.

"He's fine. He's inside with Luke and Lydia. You haven't seen him around your place?"

"No. No, but I'll go look."

"It's the only home he knew before Negan left," Carol said quietly. "Would you look?"

"Of course. I'm sure he's around here somewhere. We'll find him." Andrea reached out and took Carol's hand, giving it a squeeze, and for a moment, Carol felt like she was back on that old highway fretting over Sophia.

"We'll find him," she whispered, placing her hand over her heart. "We will."


	45. Help

Chapter 45: Help

After a good half hour of searching every structure on the property from top to bottom, everyone was at a loss. Carol and Andrea had questioned Lydia and Dylan again, asking them both to remember exactly where they saw Henry last, but their stories remained the same.

"Where could he be?" Carol choked out, running her fingers through her hair as she paced the front porch.

"You're sure you didn't see anyone go out the gate?" Andrea asked Ben, the young man who'd been on gate duty.

"No. Nobody," he stammered. "Just Daryl and Merle in the truck."

Andrea sighed then, and Carol gasped softly.

"Shit," she bit out. "Oh shit."

"What?" Andrea asked.

"The truck."

"What?"

"What if he got in the truck?" Carol asked.

"The back was packed full of stuff." She stopped then, and her eyes went wide. She met Carol's gaze, and at the same time, the two women took off toward the gates. Andrea reached out and grabbed Carol's hand, stopping her. "What are you doing?"

"He's out there. Daryl and Merle don't even…"

"We don't know he's out there. And you have no business going out there."

"I'm not…" Carol sighed heavily and felt a twinge of pain in her back. She placed her hand there, and Andrea pulled her arm around her.

"Come sit down." Carol nodded then, following Andrea's lead to the nearest porch stoop. "Want me to get Denise?"

"No. No, it'll pass." She winced then, and Andrea knelt down in front of her.

"I'll go."

"What?"

"I'll go. They can't be far. Where do they usually go to hunt?"

"They stay within ten miles. They went north last time. They probably headed west" Carol took a deep, shaking breath. She looked up to see concern creasing Andrea's brow, and she shook her head. "I'm ok. I am. But you shouldn't go out there."

"I know how to take care of myself. And I know you do, too. But I'm not asking." Carol nodded then, and Andrea squeezed her shoulder. "Let's get you home, ok?" Carol nodded then, and Andrea helped her stand. "Any more pain?"

"No. I'm fine."

"You're not lying to me?"

"I'm not lying."

"Okay, because if I come back and find out you were lying, I'll have to kick your ass. Only, maybe _after_ you have the baby."

"You'd lose," Carol pointed out with a chuckle, as she and Andrea walked back toward the Dixon home.

"Probably," Andrea laughed. "Merle tells me you're a badass."

"He said that?" Carol asked.

"Yeah, I think he has a thing for you," Andrea teased. Carol snorted and shook her head.

"We both know who he's got a thing for, and it's not me." She looked at Andrea, and Andrea rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the blush that filled her cheeks.

Lydia, Dylan and Luke were all on the front porch when Carol and Andrea arrived.

"I told you guys to stay inside," Carol scolded.

'We got worried," Lydia insisted. "Did you find Henry?"

"No, Lyddie," Carol sighed.

"We couldn't find him either, Mom," Dylan said softly, looking to Andrea.

"It's ok," Andrea assured him. "Hey, I need you to stay here with Carol, ok? Would you go inside and get her some water, please?" Dylan nodded. "Thanks, baby." Dylan hurried inside, and Lydia took Carol's hand.

"Mommy, are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Carol promised. "Just overdid it a little." She sat down on the porch swing, and Lydia and Luke scrambled up to sit with her. Dylan returned with a bottle of water and handed it to Carol.

"Thank you." She took a sip and put the cap back on, while Andrea knelt in front of her son.

"I need you to stay here for a little bit, ok?"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to look for Henry. I'm going outside, but I won't be gone long."

"No! You can't go out there," Dylan panicked, wrapping his arms around his mother's neck. "Don't go."

"Honey, I have to go look. I won't go alone. I promise. And I'll be back very soon."

"Uh…we have a problem." Andrea looked up to see Tara hurrying over. "Big problem. Huge." Tara motioned toward the front of the property. "We, uh, we got a pretty big build up. I guess the commotion looking for Henry attracted them."

"Shit." Carol looked to Andrea and then to Tara. "How many?"

"About two dozen. They're blocking the gate. Nobody's getting out until we take them out and get the bodies out of the way."

"Alright." Andrea sighed and stood. "Tara, how good of a shot are you?"

"I'm good. I know how that sounds. But I am." Andrea looked to Carol who nodded in agreement.

"Alright. You're with me. Grab your weapon, meet me at the gate in five minutes." Tara nodded then.

"She ok?" she asked, looking to Carol, who was wiping the sweat from her brow.

"I'm fine," Carol insisted. "Everything's fine. _Go_." When Tara finally turned to leave, Andrea looked to Dylan.

"Dyl, stay with Carol, Lydia and Luke. I'll be back soon."

"Ok," he agreed, as she leaned down to pull him into a hug.

"I love you. More than anything." He nodded then, and she kissed the top of his head. With that, she turned and hurried back to her house to grab her gun.

"Mommy, I'm scared," Lydia whispered, curling up against her mother. Carol pulled her arm around the girl and pulled her close.

"I know. I am, too." She closed her eyes then, feeling the salt of tears burn her eyes. She felt her heart begin to pound again as echoes of another life began to ring through her memories. She could still remember Sophia's terrified face as she and Carl hid under that car. She could still hear her whimpering as that walker went after her. She could still remember the last glimpse of her daughter's terrified face before she disappeared down that ravine and out of her life forever.

...

The old, dirt road was almost impassible, but Merle managed to navigate it without popping a tire. By the time they got stopped about a half mile from where he remembered the fishing hole being, Daryl looked annoyed and ready to go back home.

"What's got your panties in a bunch, Darylina?" Merle asked. Daryl glared at his brother.

"You can't drive for shit."

"I got us here, didn't I?" Merle snorted.

"Yeah. Good look getting us back without dropping the engine. Swear to Christ this road's got more potholes than the street we grew up on." Just before Merle could cut the engine, the pickup backfired. "God damn it. Now we're gonna have walkers on our ass."

"C'mon. We'll move up the road a ways."

"Let's get back. Gonna have to stop takin' the truck. It's gonna leave us stranded one of these days."

"We got plenty of light left. Let's get up there, get the fish and…"

"This was s'posed to be a huntin' trip. We didn't come all the way out here to catch a goddamn fish. You wanna impress Andrea, do it on your own time." Merle stared at him for a moment, and Daryl huffed, looking out the other window.

"Just grab your shit, baby brother. We'll do this fast."

"You're gonna get us killed."

"You wanna stay here? I'll go. You wait here and yell if there's any trouble."

"I ain't waitin' in the damn truck," Daryl muttered, opening his door and stepping out. He shut it quietly and looked around, seeing no sign of walkers, much to his relief. But when he stepped around the back of the truck, he noticed something right away. Little foot prints leading off into the woods. "Shit."

"What's the matter?" Merle asked, stepping around the truck.

"We didn't leave alone." Daryl nodded toward the small footprints, and Merle knelt down to get a closer look.

"Goddamn, we got ourselves a stowaway?" Daryl quickly pulled back the tarp, looking through the supplies Merle had loaded, looking for any sign of their little guest. "One of yours?"

"No. Don't think so," Daryl murmured. "Judgin' by the shoe size, I gotta say it's Henry or Dylan."

"Hell, it ain't Dylan. Kid's terrified about goin' back outside those walls. Meanwhile, Henry's still waitin' on his daddy to come back inside 'em."

"Jesus," Daryl muttered. "We gotta get to him 'fore a walker does." He grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder, while Merle grabbed a shotgun. He rummaged around the back of the truck, coming out with the first crude prosthetic he'd made after losing his hand. The knife on the end was still sharp, and as he placed it on the stump at his wrist, he looked at Daryl.

"Ain't had much need for this in a long time. But, I don't generally leave home without it." Daryl nodded, and he turned to start off following the footprints, hoping they'd find their little stowaway sooner rather than later.

The more they walked, the more obvious it became that they were trailing Henry. Dylan had lived outside the walls long enough to know how to cover tracks and how to get through dense foliage on the ground. These tracks were clumsy and uncertain. And at one point, they began making a wide circle. Daryl began to wonder if he himself might get lost.

"Smart kid. Headin' toward the fishin' hole," Merle mumbled.

"He don't even know about the fishin' hole. He's just walkin' and tryin' to get himself lost."

"Bravest kid I ever seen."

"Brave? Jesus Christ, this kid don't even know what's out here. He's never been outside the walls." He stopped and listened for any sign of movement. Nothing. "Henry!" He watched the trail curve around the base of a huge pine tree, and he followed it carefully. "Never thought I'd be out in the woods lookin' for a damn kid again."

"You need to discipline that boy."

"I ain't his dad."

"Sure you are. 'Til his own old man comes back, you're it. He's sleepin' under your roof, listenin' to your bedtime stories. You're as much that boy's daddy as his own would be if he was home." Daryl looked at his brother. "The kid lost his mom, and not long after that, his dad took off. He's stayin' with you folks, but that ain't gonna take away what he's lost. How many stories you tell him about the woods? Kid's grown up behind walls. He probably wanted to know why his dad left the safety of the walls to come out here." Daryl said nothing. Merle had a good point. Still, Henry knew better than to sneak out like that. He'd heard stories about the monsters all of his life. All of the little ones behind the walls knew about the monsters and why the walls were so important.

"Henry!" Daryl called again.

The crunch of leaves close by alerted them that they weren't alone. Daryl turned, aiming his crossbow as he looked carefully for any sign of danger.

"Henry! It's Daryl and Merle. If you're close, let us know!" Then he heard a whimper and another fluttering of leaves. Daryl looked to Merle and nodded, silently motioning for Merle to make a wide circle around one way while he went the other.

It was then they heard the growls, and Daryl felt his heart skip a beat.

"God damn it," he bit out. "Henry! It's ok! We're close!" The whimpers turned into frightened screams, and Daryl and Merle both took off sprinting through the woods, weapons aimed as the growls of walkers and screams of a terrified child beckoned them.

But just as quickly as they'd started running, they stopped in their tracks when the screaming and growling was silenced by a single gunshot. Merle and Daryl, at least ten yards apart, looked at each other before taking off running once again.

A gnarled, old tree soon came into view. It was hallowed out on one side just enough for a small child to fit inside. But when Daryl reached it first, it was empty. Just a few feet away was the still corpse with a oozing gunshot wound through its forehead.

"Henry!" Daryl called.

"He's ok!" A male voice came from close by. "He's alright. Put down your weapons, and we'll give you your boy back!"

"Bullshit!" Merle growled breathlessly, catching up to Daryl.

"Henry!" Daryl yelled. "You ok?" He heard shuffling from close by and turned toward the sound. The boy sniffled, and then he heard his voice.

"I'm ok. I'm sorry!" Daryl and Merle caught each other's gazes.

"Look, we were fishing in the area and heard the kid. We don't want any trouble. Just…please, put your weapons down, and we'll come out!" Merle started to move toward the voice, but Daryl reached out, putting his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"We don't know how many there are. Just do it," Daryl whispered.

"I only hear one man."

"Don't be stupid," Daryl growled. "Do it." Merle bit back the urge to either slug his brother in the nose or punch a nearby tree, and he tossed his shotgun to the ground. For good measure, he removed the prosthetic from his hand and tossed it into the dirt. Daryl slid the strap of his crossbow from his shoulder and put the weapon on the ground. He held his hands out up.

"Come forward. Away from the weapons." Merle shot a glare at Daryl, but Daryl took the first step forward.

"Henry, you're ok?" he called.

"I'm ok!" Henry called back. Daryl and Merle took a few cautious steps toward Henry's voice, and in a moment, Henry came rushing out from behind a thick bush. He ran, his face splotchy from crying, and he practically knocked Daryl over with the force behind his hug.

"Hey, it's ok," Daryl murmured, hugging the boy. Henry choked out a sob, as Daryl lifted him up. Henry's arms hugged him tightly around the neck, and Daryl took a deep breath and bit back the urge to yell at the boy for doing something so stupid and for scaring the shit out of them. But as the boy broke down crying, he didn't have the heart.

"You gonna hide in the bushes, or are you gonna come out?" Merle asked, peering at the moving leaves on the bush. In a moment, a small handgun was tossed out in plain sight, and seconds later, two hands were visible, held up to show there was no danger.

"I'm coming out!" he called, stepping out from behind the bush and into sight. Daryl heard a dry laugh fall from Merle's lips, and when he looked forward to see the man stepping out into sight, his gaze locked on the surprised gaze of Henry's savior.

"Holy shit," Merle laughed. "Look what the cat dragged in." Merle wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm and turned to Daryl. The younger man took a few steps forward, narrowing his gaze on the two men and young Henry.

"Oh my God," the younger man said. Daryl opened his mouth to speak but closed it again before finally choking out the ghost of a word he hadn't uttered in years.

"Glenn?"


	46. Glenn

_Author's Note: Yes, that's two chapters in one day! I can hardly believe it myself. I hope you enjoy it, and as always, feedback is much appreciated! Thanks for reading!_

Chapter 46: Glenn

Glenn's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of his old friend Daryl, but the moment his gaze settled on Merle again, his jaw clenched, and he knelt down to pick up his gun. He stuck it in the back of his belt and took a couple steps forward.

"Jesus Christ," Merle laughed. "Where the hell you been?"

"Where the hell have you been since Rick killed your buddy the Governor?" Glenn asked. Merle's smirk faded, and he bent down to grab his prosthetic and his shotgun.

"That was a long time ago. Made a bad call, but I lived through it. Looks like you did, too."

"Where you been?" Daryl asked, stepping forward with Henry in his arms. The boy tightened his hold on Daryl's neck. "We looked for all of you. Wasn't 'til winter we had to stop. Went back to the traffic jam, but everybody was gone. Where the hell'd you go?"

"Everywhere. We kept moving, man," Glenn bit out, running his hand through his hair. "Rick was freaking out. He told us everybody was infected. Told us about Shane. He killed Shane, man. And he got us off that farm. He got us out alive. Most of us."

"Most of us," Daryl echoed.

"We wanted to look for you. We went out two at a time. Me and T-Dog. Sometimes Rick and Hershel. But it was getting colder, and Rick wanted to keep moving. The herd was tailing us for weeks. And we ended up in storage units freezing our asses off until spring."

Henry loosened his grip on Daryl, and when he pulled back, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

"You're alright," Daryl assured him. "Gonna put you down, but you stay put, alright?" Henry nodded, and Daryl put him down. The boy grabbed hold of the side of his jeans and practically glued himself to his side.

"You said 'we were fishing,'" Merle pointed out.

"What?"

"Who's we?"

"We?" Glenn asked. "Oh. Uh, Rosita. I think you know her." Daryl and Merle shared a look before turning their attention back to Glenn. "And Aaron. You've never met him."

"You been around here all this time?" Daryl asked.

"No. No. Uh…we're camping up at the fishing hole."

"Where's Rick? Lori? The rest of 'em?" Daryl asked.

"Daryl, I can explain everything. But it's a lot to take in. You want to come with me?"

"We ain't goin' nowhere with you, kid," Merle scoffed.

"Merle, shut up," Daryl bit out. "It's Glenn."

"That don't mean shit. Time changes a man. I should know."

"You go wait in the goddamn truck then," Daryl grunted. He bent down and picked up his crossbow, throwing it over his shoulder. Henry reached up and took Daryl's hand.

"Look, I gotta get the boy home. I'm sure everybody's scared shitless."

"The farm with walls?" Glenn asked. Daryl narrowed his eyes at him. "Rosita, Abraham and Eugene? They showed up where _we_ live, and there aren't a lot of Carols and Daryls left in the world, I'm sure. Your names kind of stuck out. We were on our way there, but we got turned around." Daryl and Merle shared another look. "Look, we'll give up our weapons at the gate. Gladly. We just need a place to rest. We've come a long way."

"Where the hell you been?" Merle asked.

"Near Washington D.C. A settlement called Alexandria." At Daryl's look, Glenn sighed. "Look, it's a long story. So either we're gonna stand out here in the woods all day, or we're going to go back and get my people and get this kid home. What's it gonna be?"

...

By the time the walkers had all been put down and the bodies cleared, daylight was fading fast. As much as Andrea wanted to go out there and look for Henry, she knew daylight was the only advantage they had in the woods. Going out there unprepared would almost certainly be a suicide mission. So, she was making plans to go out at first light if Daryl and Merle came back with no sign of Henry.

Carol had managed to get the kids through their baths and bedtime stories and off to sleep by the time she heard the commotion outside. She quickly checked on Luke, Lydia and Dylan and then headed down the stairs and out the front door. Dog was right at her side, and she commanded him to stay on the porch. Cradling her belly with one arm, she hurried as quickly as she could toward the front gate.

She heard the familiar rumble of that rickety old pickup truck, and her stomach twisted into knots. She knew that if Henry wasn't with them, then the boy was likely dead. Sophia had been on her mind all day, and she was certain that if Negan came home to the news his son was dead, it truly would break him.

The first thing Carol noticed was the second vehicle coming in behind the pickup truck. The second thing she noticed was Henry seated between Daryl and Merle in the pickup. She gasped, and Daryl opened up the truck door just as Merle rolled to a stop. As the gates closed behind the vehicles, Henry climbed over Daryl and out of the truck, and Carol was the first to greet him.

"Oh my God," she choked out. "You're ok. You're ok." She knelt down in the dirt and pulled him into a hug. "You had us so scared. I thought…"

"I'm sorry," he sniffled.

"Why'd you do that? Huh? You know better than that!" She pulled back from the hug and put her hands on his shoulders. "Why'd you do that?"

"I thought maybe my dad was lost in the woods. Like the girl in the story Daryl told Lydia." Carol blinked back tears and hugged him again. "He never gave up looking for her."

"Your dad can take care of himself," she murmured. "But _we're_ supposed to take care of you."

"I'm sorry," he whimpered.

"Don't you _ever_ do something like that again, Henry! Promise me."

"I promise," he sniffled. Carol hugged him again, squeezing him tight. When she let go, she wiped the tears from his face and kissed his forehead. "I'm just glad you're safe. We're going to have a long talk about this in the morning, but I think we've both been through enough today." Henry nodded then, and Carol stood, taking his hand. Daryl climbed out of the truck and rushed to her, pulling her into a hug.

"What happened out there?" she asked, peering over his shoulder and squinting into the bright headlights of the second vehicle, before the abruptly shut off.

"You ain't gonna believe this one," Daryl murmured, turning to pull his arm around her from the side and waving Glenn over with his free arm.

Out from around the pickup truck came Glenn, Rosita and a man Carol had never seen before. Carol's jaw dropped a moment, and her hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh my God," she gasped. Tears flooded her eyes again, and she let go of Henry's hand and went straight to Glenn. The smile of relief that flashed across his face was all she needed to pull her arms around him and hug him close. "You're alive."

"So are you," he chuckled, sniffling as Carol pulled back and wiped at her eyes. "And look at you." He glanced down at the belly between them, and Carol rested her hand there.

"Hey, Carol," Rosita spoke up, giving a tired wave as Carol moved to hug her. "Remember me?"

"Of course I remember you. Abraham and Eugene?"

"Long story," she said somberly. She nodded to the other man with the unkempt beard and the surprised eyes. "This is Aaron."

"Aaron," Carol whispered.

"I've heard a lot about you and Daryl and this place. It's nice to finally put faces to names." The crowd that had gathered around out of curiosity about Henry's return was now whispering about the new arrivals.

"Alright, folks. It's late. Nothin' to see here," Merle called out. "Everybody go back home and get some sleep." He waved the crowds off toward their homes, and much to his surprise, he felt two arms pull around his middle. He looked down to see a mop of hair belonging to Dylan. "Hey, kid. Missed you, too." Dylan looked up at him and grinned, while Andrea came rushing over pulling her bathrobe around her middle. "Hey, Blondie. Didn't find no fish, but I figured you'd like what I _did_ find a whole lot better." He nodded toward Glenn, and Andrea's eyes went wide.

"Glenn? Oh my God!" She rushed over and hugged him, and the young man stumbled back in surprise but hugged Andrea just as fiercely.

"Andrea? Rosita didn't mention you being here."

"I haven't been here long at all. God, where is everybody else?"

"Maybe we should get some sleep, explain everything in the morning, yeah?" Rosita suggested. "We're all exhausted, and it looks like you've all had enough excitement for one night."

"I think Rosita's got a good point," Aaron chimed in. "We've been on the road for nearly a month."

"Why don't you take Merle's place? He's got plenty of room," Andrea chimed in.

"Actually, moved a lot of Negan's stuff into my spare room, remember, Blondie? Ain't got but the two rooms."

"You can stay with us, right Dyl?" Andrea asked, much to Merle's surprise.

"Yeah! Awesome!" Dylan jumped excitedly. At Merle's grin, Andrea rolled her eyes and leaned in to whisper to him.

"My couch is awfully comfortable." She patted his cheek, and Merle groaned. He turned then and looked at the new arrivals.

"Alright. You folks follow me. My only rule is if you break any of my shit, you replace it with your shit. Got it?" Rosita glanced at Glenn and then Aaron, and without words, they followed Merle to his house, while the rest of the group headed back to their own homes.

Carol turned to Daryl then, and she hugged him once again, kissing him softly.

"Has he told you anything?" Daryl shook his head.

"Not much. All I know is they've been in D.C. for a while. Years, maybe."

"Rick?"

"Don't know."

"And Maggie? Lori?" Daryl shook his head. "I say we go home and try to sleep. Tomorrow, when they're ready, they'll tell us why they're here." Carol nodded then, and she looked down at Henry and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Come on. Let's go home."

...

Merle had given the group a quick tour of the house before grabbing a few things and hightailing it over to Andrea's house. Rosita, Glenn and Aaron all sat around having something to eat and drink before taking turns in the shower. Aaron went first, Rosita went second and Glenn went third. By the time Glenn got out of his shower, Aaron could already be heard snoring from his room, clearly exhausted from the journey.

Glenn pulled on his cleanest set of sleep clothes and slipped into the room he'd thrown all of his stuff into. There was a chill in the air, and he quickly tossed a few logs in the fireplace before lighting a match. And when he stood up, he heard the creak of the floorboards and Rosita came padding in, barefoot and wearing her usual dark sleep pants and old T-shirt.

"Figured you'd be sleeping already," Glenn yawned, rubbing his eyes as he made his way to the bed. He cleared off his things, piling them in a chair in the corner. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and his shoulders slumped. Rosita cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms across her chest.

"What are you gonna tell them tomorrow?" she asked.

"The truth?" Glenn suggested with a shrug. "I don't even know where to start, to be honest."

"You gonna be ok?" she asked, taking a few steps into the room.

"Yeah. I just…as happy as I am to see them again, I just can't help but wish we were already back home."

"I know. We _will_ be home soon." Glenn nodded then and then his shoulders slumped. Rosita sighed softly and stepped up to stand between his parted legs. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her stomach, moving his hands to her hips. He pulled his arms around her then, holding her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist and settled in his lap.

"Soon," Glenn said with a tired smile, leaning in to press his lips to hers. When he pulled back for a moment, she pouted at him before breaking out in a wide smile.

"Soon," she repeated, wrapping her arms around his neck and sinking into his comforting embrace.


	47. Insomnia and Bacon

Chapter 47: Insomnia and Bacon

Carol covered her face with her hands, panting as Daryl crawled up from where he'd been settled between her legs. He pulled her hands back and kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips.

"Where'd that come from?" Carol panted between kisses.

"You couldn't sleep. Thought I'd tire you out," he smirked. She grinned against his lips, and he moved his hand between her legs, stroking her soaking core. He crawled over her then, and he was about to slip inside when she gently pushed on his shoulder. "S'wrong?"

"My back," she panted. Daryl chuckled then, burying his face against her hair. "I had a twinge earlier, and it still hurts."

"You ok? The baby?"

"Yeah, baby's fine," she panted. "Just…here." She shifted then, rolling onto her side with her back to Daryl. He recalled back when Carol was heavily pregnant with Luke, this was the easiest position for her aside from being on top.

"Good?" he asked.

"Mmm," she murmured, biting her lip as Daryl pressed up against her. He reached around and between her legs, stroking her clit as he lined up and pushed inside. She gasped, and he buried a groan against the back of her neck, pumping his hips slowly as Carol's arm snaked around and curled back so she could thread her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

His other hand gently grasped her breast, and she moaned as he rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

He pressed soft, lazy kisses down the length of her neck, and closed his eyes as her walls tightened around him. He took his time, caressing her sensitive skin, teasing her in all the places he knew she was particularly sensitive. And when she finally came, he gripped her hips and picked up the pace a little until he was spent.

When he pulled out of her, she rolled onto her back and turned her face toward his. Her face was perfectly pink, and he loved that sometimes she still blushed after sex.

"I wonder what time it is?" she asked with a sleepy smile.

"Probably midnight or a little after. I couldn't sleep either."

"Sleepy now?" Carol asked, running her hand up his chest and over his shoulder.

"Gettin' there," he laughed. He reached between them and placed his hand on her belly. "You sure the baby's ok?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I think I just overdid it in the stress department." Her little smile did nothing to ease Daryl's worries.

"Maybe we shouldn't have just…"

"It's just a back ache. I'm fine. Baby's fine. I promise you." She leaned in to kiss him, and when she pulled away, she laughed. "This is gonna be a long night."

"Could read you one of Luke's bedtime stories," he joked.

"I think we've had enough bedtime stories for a while," Carol pointed out.

"Yeah," he murmured. "We gonna ground him or…?"

"He misses his dad. _And _his mom. I mean, we have to be careful how we punish him."

"Scared the shit outta me. Can't imagine what was goin' through your head," Daryl murmured, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He groaned and turned his face to look at her, rubbing his tired eyes before reaching out to stroke her cheek. "You ok?"

"I told you…"

"I don't mean that," he said quietly. Carol flinched at the insinuation, and she slowly relaxed. With a nod, she gave him a sad smile.

"It brought up a lot of memories. It was like being out on that highway all over again." Daryl reached for her hand, curling his fingers around hers. "I know he's not mine, but I helped bring him into the world. I held him before either of his parents. I helped take care of him. And now I'm looking after him, and he feels like mine. Today, I felt like I did the day Sophia went into those woods, and I never want to feel that again."

"You won't," Daryl promised. "Hey. Look at me." Carol took a deep, shaking breath, and she blinked back tears. "Hey."

"Hey," she sniffled.

"We're ok. Everybody's ok."

"I know," she sniffled.

"C'mere." He curled his arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled up against him, resting her hand against his chest. "It's ok." She took another shaking breath, and then she fell apart. She shook with muffled sobs and buried her face against his neck, and for the first time in a very long time, she cried herself to sleep.

...

Glenn felt like he'd slept for a week when he woke the next morning. The sun was up, and the laughter of children fluttered through the open bedroom window. It was a much better wakeup call than the snarling of walkers or the sounds of gunfire.

"He dressed quickly and passed Aaron who was standing in the bathroom with the door open, trimming the grizzly bush of a beard he'd achieved since leaving home. Glenn nodded in his direction before heading down the stairs.

The smell of honest to god bacon hit him halfway down the stairs, and his stomach growled loud enough it would've been embarrassing had anyone been around to hear it. But when he stepped foot in the foyer and turned toward the kitchen, he saw Rosita dishing out three platefuls of scrambled eggs and bacon. Glenn watched as she walked barefoot across the kitchen and tossed the frying pan into a sink of soapy water. She scratched the back of her calf with her other foot, and Glenn leaned against the door frame, grinning to himself until she realized she wasn't alone.

She turned then, smiling at him.

"Try this," she said brightly, crossing the room and grabbing a piece of bacon from the table. She continued across the room until she stood right in front of him, and she offered him a little bite. "They have real bacon, babe. Not that shelf-stable shit." Glenn avoided her offering, gently taking her wrist in his hand, and he pulled her in close, kissing her softly.

"You taste better than bacon," he grinned between kisses. She laughed, and pushed at his shoulder.

"That's because I brushed my teeth. Hint hint," she teased.

"I was getting to it. Aaron's getting his beard all over the sink. I'll brush after breakfast," he promised. Rosita made a face at him and when he leaned in to kiss her again, she popped the small piece of bacon into her mouth. "Really?"

"It's _so _good," she grinned, moaning as she savored the salty flavor. Glenn grabbed her by the hips and turned her around, backing her into the wall. "Ooh, someone's feisty this morning." She swallowed her bite of food and sighed when he leaned in. He gently nipped at her ear before sucking at her neck until she was panting softly. When he pulled back, a little whine escaped her lips. "Kiss me."

"Thought you didn't like my morning breath."

"I don't care," she laughed. "Kiss me." He just stared at her, a little smile playing at his lips. "Babe?"

"I love you," he said after a moment, watching the grin widen on her face.

"I love you, too," she whispered, kissing him again. Aaron's footsteps overhead broke them out of the moment, and Glenn pulled back. The two settled down at the table, and when Aaron stepped in with a trimmed beard, Glenn couldn't help but smirk.

"What?" Aaron asked.

"Better."

"Says the man that gets a five o'clock shadow once a month." He leaned down and patted Glenn's smooth cheek. "Baby face." Glenn groaned, and Rosita laughed. As they began to eat, Aaron glanced at Glenn and then at Rosita.

"So, how's this gonna go?" he asked.

"What?" Rosita asked.

"Are we just telling them everything straight out? I know what the plan was, but I think there might be a wrench in it now."

"What kind of wrench?" Glenn asked. Rosita sighed.

"For starters, the pregnant woman he was hugging when we got here last night," Rosita explained. "His wife. Carol?" She raised her eyebrows and gestured emphatically. "Look, I spent a little time here, and I know he's a family man, but he's also loyal to his friends. But she's pregnant, and there's no way he's going to leave her."

"It's not forever," Glenn insisted.

"It's the end of the world. It could be." Rosita took a forkful of egg, and Glenn looked at Aaron.

"Look, I know Daryl. He's always been the go-to guy. He was _Rick's_ go to guy."

"Family changes a man, Glenn. You of all people know that," Aaron pointed out. "Before Gracie, I never would've risked leaving Alexandria to come all the way out here. We all left something back home. We all have something we want to get back to. It's safe there now, but for how long?" He shook his head. "Your friend owes us nothing. And he's got a family here, and it looks like this place is thriving. He's not going to leave."

Rosita wiped her mouth with the cloth by her plate, and she pushed her chair back from the table.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go talk to him. Better yet, let's talk to _them._"

_Author's Note: Thanks again for reading, everyone. Please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! Feedback is always appreciated!_


	48. What Happened

Chapter 48: What Happened

Andrea, Merle and Dylan had come over for breakfast, and after everyone was full and the dishes were cleared, the children went upstairs to play. The adults gathered in the living room, and before long, someone was knocking on the door.

Carol greeted Glenn, Aaron and Rosita with a smile and welcomed them inside, and everyone glanced around at one another curiously when they settled down into various seats around the coffee table. Daryl held Carol's hand, absently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Andrea sat next to Carol, while Merle sat on the arm of the couch, something Carol always scolded him for. But given the limited seats, she was letting it slide for now.

Aaron, Glenn and Rosita sat across the coffee table from them, and before Glenn even opened his mouth to speak, Aaron passed a folder to Daryl. Daryl opened it up to find a few grainy photographs of walls similar to the ones they had around the farm. Carol peered over in Daryl's lap to see a photo of what appeared to be Carl Grimes, only a couple feet taller with a little girl at his side. The first thing Carol noticed was that that little girl had Lori's eyes. And she looked very much like Andrea's little boy Dylan. The next photo was of what looked like an orchard and children playing around the trees.

"When the news stations first started reporting these deaths, I was on my way to work taking my boss the usual trendy coffee and listening to some classic rock station. There was a standstill on the highway, and the army was redirecting everybody back out of the city. I was so worried my boss was going to give me hell for his coffee being cold that I tried taking a shortcut. I ended up being pulled over by some army officials and redirected to Alexandria. It became my home, and this is the first time I've been away from my home for longer than a week. So I hope you'll consider what we're asking before you say no."

"What are you asking?" Daryl asked, narrowing his eyes at the man.

"We need help," Aaron said quietly.

"_Rick_ needs help," Glenn explained.

"We all do," Rosita added, looking to Carol and Daryl.

"What's going on with Rick? What happened to everyone?" Carol asked, settling back against the couch. Glenn looked to Rosita, and she nodded at him to continue.

"When the farm was overrun, we were scattered. It was just me and Maggie, and we managed to make it back to the highway. When we got there, we saw Rick, Hershel and Carl. Soon, Lori, T-Dog and Beth came. It was late, and some of the herd caught up to us. We wanted to wait. But the walkers kept coming, and we didn't have a choice."

"By the time we go there, ya'll were gone. We stayed for a couple days."

"We kept going until we were all running on fumes," Glenn explained. "We slept in our cars that night, but not before Rick told us everything about what went down with Shane, how he'd killed Randall and then tried to kill Rick. He told us what Jenner said at the CDC about being infected." Carol and Daryl glanced at each other. "It's why people come back when they die, even if they aren't bit." Glenn rubbed his hands together anxiously. "Things were rough for a long while. A lot of tension with Rick and Lori. I think Lori was pissed because Carl was the one that put Shane down. After everything the kid went through, getting shot and losing his best friend, I think Lori thought this one would push him over the edge. But it didn't. Things got better with Lori and Rick, and Carl started taking on more responsibility. But then winter came. We hid out in storage shelters, and I thought we were going to starve to death. But we survived somehow."

"Then you ended up at a prison," Daryl said slowly.

"Yeah. Lori was about to have the baby, and Rick was going out of his mind trying to figure out how he was going to keep everybody alive with a newborn thrown in the mix. But we found the place and cleared it out, but the first day we got inside, Hershel got bit on the leg. T-Dog got bit on the shoulder. Rick took Hershel's leg and saved his life. There was nothing we could do for T." Daryl glanced at Carol, and her shoulders slumped.

"He was a good guy," Daryl said quietly. Glenn nodded.

"One of the best." Glenn glanced at Merle who had found the good sense to keep his mouth shut. "Uh, anyway, it wasn't long after all that Lori had the baby. Pretty little girl they let Carl name. He picked Judith after one of his teachers." Glenn grinned. "Though Carol and Andrea were both in the running. Judith just fit her better." He looked at Merle. "I guess Merle knows a little about what happened next."

"Yeah, the, uh, the Governor had some beef with your old pal Rick," Merle said with a nod. "Rick had walls and fences, just like the Governor, and I don't know, I guess he felt he was the head honcho in those parts, and if he couldn't have the prison, nobody else could, either. He was a real piece of work."

"The day the Governor destroyed the prison, we barely got out. Beth was killed," Glenn said quietly. "Rick took us to Woodbury, and I'm sure Merle's filled you in on what happened there. We got out. We stuck together this time. We didn't scatter. We stayed on the train tracks. Walking around with Judith was like carrying a ticking time bomb, but at least on the tracks we had an advantage. We picked off walkers as we came up on them, and it wasn't long before we found Terminus. I'm sure you've heard all about that."

"Some of us have even lived through it."

"You were lucky to get out. So were we. We ended up finding this church out in the middle of nowhere. It was abandoned, but there were enough food supplies to last us a couple of weeks. So we stayed there, barricaded ourselves inside, and we tried to come up with a plan. Rick wanted to go west. Hershel suggested we keep going east and head for the ocean. About a week into our stay, we heard some commotion in the woods and came up on a guy, just barely older than Beth. Name was Noah, said he was heading to North Carolina. He claimed the last he knew, the neighborhood he grew up in was a safe zone. He was on his own, starving and out of weapons, and he needed help." He looked to Rosita and Aaron and then looked to Daryl. "It took some convincing to get Rick to agree to go. He didn't want to leave. He still had hope that he'd find you guys eventually. But he had a kid to think about, and we were running low on supplies and food. So, he agreed to go. Only, when we got there, the place was overrun. Nobody was left alive. Unfortunately, the dead hadn't been put down, and when Noah went to his home, his family was there. We didn't get to him in time."

"Jesus," Merle muttered. "Bad luck."

"We just started heading north. A few weeks later, we met Aaron."

"I was out scouting. To be honest, they didn't trust me right away. I mean, I get that. They'd nearly been killed by cannibals, and they were traveling with a baby. Trust isn't an easy thing to have in this world," Aaron explained. "They got caught in a storm, and they were low on food and water. I left it for them, and Rick dumped everything. I watched them for days, seeing these people just struggling out there. Our leader, a woman named Deanna, held auditions for places in our safe zone."

"Auditions?" Daryl asked. "Makes it sound like some kind of cult."

"It's really not," Glenn insisted. "It's just they've had some bad experiences. They wanted to make sure they found people…well, I'll let Aaron tell it."

"We wanted to make sure we found people who were going to bring new ideas into the place. Deanna had just lost her husband and both sons when they went out on a supply run. They were overrun by walkers, and she needed to take a step back from her leadership duties. She asked me to find new people to bring in. We had about a hundred people living behind our walls, and not many of them had experience with fending off walkers or people for that matter. We were safe behind walls, but that was about it. She wanted people that had experienced life outside of our walls who could help train our people to defend themselves and survive. And when I saw Rick's group, I knew they'd be perfect. Plus, they had a baby to protect, and Maggie…" He looked to Glenn. Glenn took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Rosita put her hand on his arm and gave it a little supportive squeeze.

"Maggie was pregnant." Carol and Andrea looked at one another, and immediately, Carol felt her heart sink. "We were tired. We were hungry. Rick was trying to keep it together. He shut everyone out. Lori, too. Somehow, we talked him into going. We'd been on the road so long, and when we first rolled up to those gates, it was…" He looked to Rosita. "Well, it was like this place. We walked outside this morning, and we heard kids playing and laughing. That's what Alexandria was then. They had walls and houses that were practically mansions. They had a doctor and a supply team. They had electricity and fresh water and food."

"You gonna get to the point sometime today?" Merle asked, getting a swat on the leg from Andrea.

"Deanna let us in, gave us jobs. She made Rick the sheriff. He looked half-crazed when we got there, so don't ask me why, but she saw something in him. The same something that we saw when we started following him, I guess. After a good shower, some food and a couple days or rest, Rick was already making plans. Deanna handed leadership over to him pretty quickly. Co-leadership, I guess. He still had her to answer to. There was a council for important decisions. I got elected for supply runs. Maggie helped Deanna. Lori was shuffled off to help do inventory. Carl got to be a kid again, though he mostly took care of Judith. Things were going great for a while. And then Hirsh was born." He looked to Daryl. "We named him Hershel." Daryl glanced to Carol and gave her hand a squeeze. "Things were good. A year behind those walls, and everybody was starting to feel comfortable and safe, and everything that happened in here Georgia and out there on the road started feeling like another lifetime."

"It wasn't long after that when Abraham, Eugene and I showed up," Rosita explained. "I remember Rick wasn't too thrilled about us staying, but Aaron and Glenn talked him into it. And when we got to know people, we realized we'd heard the names before. Rick, Lori, Glenn, Maggie. We realized we had a mutual friend in common."

"I remember as soon as Abraham mentioned knowing you, Daryl," Glenn started. "Rick was all but ready to head out and come find you. But the trip here nearly killed us. We weren't ready. We had to make plans to come back. We had to have a reliable vehicle, enough gas to get us here and enough food to last us for the trip here and back. But things kept happening. We had a fire and lost half of our supplies. Then we had a breech. Walkers got in, and we thought we were going to have to run, but we handled it. It was just one thing after another, and we were getting beat down. Still, we were bringing people in." He looked to Rosita and then to Aaron. Aaron cleared his throat and sat forward a little.

"We were out on a supply run about two miles from Alexandria. Myself, Glenn and Abraham. We heard a woman screaming, and we went to see if we could help. We found a woman and a man running from what had to be fifty or sixty walkers. We fought them off, or we tried, but there were so many. Abraham got bit, and there was no saving him."

"He got between me and a walker that almost took a bite out of me. Saved my life, but they took him down," Rosita said quietly, glancing at Glenn. "But we got everybody away from the herd and back to Alexandria. That's where we learned that the man's name was Dante, and he was a doctor. The woman's name was Mary, and she was a school teacher. He was from Wisconsin, and she was from Iowa. Apparently they met on the way here. We brought them in, made them a part of our group. Dante worked with Alexandria's doctor, Siddiq. Mary started working with the children, helping them with their lessons. They were both very active in the community, always at council meetings, always talking to everyone. Everything was good for a while." Glenn looked to Aaron.

"I was up with my daughter Gracie. She was almost three at the time. She, uh, she had nightmares, and my husband Paul and I always took turns getting up with her," Aaron explained. "I was holding her and trying to get her back to sleep when I saw something out the window. Glenn and Maggie's place was right across from mine, and I saw some movement in the downstairs window. The house was dark, but it was a flutter of curtains or something, and something felt wrong. I remember putting Gracie back down in her bed, and I went back to the window. That's when I heard the screams and saw the light flip on." Carol's hand moved to her mouth, and she bit back a startled cry before looking to Glenn.

"I never heard her scream like that," Glenn choked out. "She was right down the hall, checking on Hershel. Dante blocked the stairs and cornered her between the nursery and the bathroom. I heard the scream, and before I was even out the bedroom door, he'd slit her throat. And then he was going for Hershel's room." He took a shaking breath, and Rosita took his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze.

"It's ok," she whispered. He nodded then, and he blinked back tears. "There wasn't anything I could do. She was gone. And I remembered we kept a knife taped to the back of one of the hall paintings, out of Hershel's reach. I grabbed it, and the next thing I knew, I was standing over Dante's body in my son's bedroom."

"Oh my God," Carol sniffled. "Glenn, I'm so sorry. I don't know…"

"My son survived. I'm grateful for that. But seeing Maggie like that…I…" He cleared his throat. "But that wasn't the end of it."

"Siddiq was watching our daughter that night," Rosita explained. "She was just a few months old, and it was her first night away from me. Siddiq was a good dad, and he loved Coco. And one of his best friends was Dante. They worked together all the time, so naturally, when Dante decided to stop by before going to Glenn and Maggie's, Siddiq let him right in. There was a struggle. It, uh, it looked like Dante went for Coco first. Siddiq fought him, and Dante killed him. I'm guessing Coco started crying, and he didn't take her. He figured he still had some damage to do, and he couldn't do that with a crying baby." She took a shaking breath and wiped at her eyes. "I'm guessing he decided that instead of killing her himself, he'd let Siddiq turn and do it for him."

"Oh God," Andrea grimaced, putting her hand to her stomach. "Rosita, I'm so sorry."

"Coco survived. Siddiq didn't turn right away. He was found before it was too late. I'm just glad Coco was young enough she won't remember it."

"There's more. You said Maggie wasn't the last of it," Merle said quietly from where he sat on the arm of the couch. Aaron nodded.

"Rick and Lori live a few houses down from me," Aaron said quietly. "And it wasn't until all of Alexandria woke up to the commotion at Glenn and Maggie's that another scream came from Rick's place. It was Lori. She went upstairs and found Carl in a pool of blood in Judith's room. He was alive, but barely, and the last thing he said before he bled out was that Mary had gotten in the house. Apparently, she was about to kill her or take her. We're still not clear on that. Carl stopped her, and they struggled. She escaped out the window and went over the wall. Judith slept through the whole thing."

Carol stood up then, and she felt a wave of nausea hit her.

"Hey." Daryl got up, taking her hand and placing a hand on her shoulder. He looked at her until she met his gaze. "It's ok. You good?" She nodded then and took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, turning to Glenn.

"It's awful," Andrea choked out. "What kind of people would do something like that?"

"In this world?" Merle asked. "You're either the good guy or the bad guy. They spies or somethin'?"

"We didn't know," Aaron pointed out. "Not at first. Things were quiet after that. For nearly a month after the funeral, everybody was on high alert, but nothing happened. Rick barely slept. And when he was awake, he was not talking. Barely eating. Lori and Judith came to stay at our place, because Rick was just shutting down. It was almost a year before they came."

"They?" Daryl asked. "Who's they?"

"The group Dante and Mary were part of," Glenn revealed. "When Mary escaped, she took all the information back to her group. They called themselves Whisperers. They wore walker masks and the clothes they pulled off of the dead. They traveled with walkers undetected, I guess because of the smell. They didn't have any kind of agenda. They just thought this was the way the world was supposed to be. The world had died and the world wasn't meant for people to live like they were supposed to, I guess. It's what they thought. They followed a woman who called herself Alpha. She was insane. She ordered them to come to the gates and kill everybody inside. The plan was for Mary and Dante to infiltrate and learn as much as they could. And they lived with us for so long. We didn't know."

"They were outside our walls for almost a week, and we made plans inside the walls. We were running low on food, and we realized that was the plan. They wanted to make us weak and draw us out," Aaron explained. "So we decided if we were going to live and save Alexandria, we had to fight, and that's what we did."

"We lost a lot of good people," Rosita admitted. "But we fought, and we won. And Rick took their leader prisoner. Alpha was expecting an execution. I think we all were. But Rick had other plans. The basement of his house had been converted into a jail. He locked her in there. He decided if he was going to be the sheriff in Alexandria, then he needed to start acting like it. And he was making an example of her for anybody else that might think twice about messing with us. The thing was, nobody would've known she was there. She got three small meals a day, very little human interaction. And I think she liked it that way."

"Alpha," Carol said quietly. "He's keeping her prisoner? Seems like a waste of resources."

"It is," Glenn bit out. "She deserves to die. But I think Rick knows that's what she wanted. She had no purpose but to take out as many of us as she could, because she thought the way we were living was wrong. She just wanted us gone, and with all of her people gone, she had no reason to keep going. I guess it's Rick's way of getting the last say."

"Honestly, we keep expecting her to do herself in, but she hasn't yet," Aaron said quietly.

"She's still alive then?" Daryl asked.

"Last we knew. She was before we left home," Rosita said quietly.

"And that's why you're here?" Carol asked, narrowing her eyes at the three. "I don't understand."

"Rick's not Rick anymore," Glenn said quietly. "He's losing his mind. He hasn't recovered since Carl died, but he's gotten worse. Lori refuses to bring Judith home with Alpha in the basement, and while she's trying to help him, he shuts her out more every day. He'll sit for hours by Carl's grave. He won't let anyone new into the community. He barely trusts us. Getting out to get the supplies we need is difficult."

"So take Alexandria from him," Merle said with a shrug. "In the state he's in, it shouldn't be too hard to push Officer Friendly outta the way."

"You all know Rick." Glenn looked right at Daryl. "He's a good man. He's never been perfect. But he's losing it. And he'd never admit that."

"But you're here," Andrea said slowly. "You have a son, Glenn. And Rosita, you have a daughter. I assume they're back in Alexandria."

"They're safe. We were in contact via radio up until about a week ago."

"R-radio? You have radios?" Andrea asked.

"Yeah. Charging back at Merle's," Aaron said with a nod. "We haven't picked up anything for days."

"Look," Rosita explained, "Lori came to us. She asked us to do something. Rick had been planning to come looking for you guys for a while, but after everything with the Whisperers, he didn't even want people going out for supplies except once a month."

"It's not good," Glenn said quietly. "Right now? Alexandria's standing. But a year from now? We're going to get weaker. During the battle with the Whisperers, we lost half of our crops. We saved enough to get by, but it's going fast. We have a lot of structure damage. People got sick. Whisperers contaminated our water supply, so we're relying on rain water. It's a mess." He looked around the room. "I never would've left my son if I didn't think it was that important to come here."

"Coco and Hirsh are with Lori and Judith," Rosita explained. "Jesus is keeping an eye on things." At the blank stares, Aaron cleared his throat.

"Everyone calls Paul Jesus. Well, you'd understand if you saw him." He looked back to Glenn.

"Look, Lori's beside herself trying to figure out how to help Rick. We had to sneak out under cover of darkness just to get here to you."

"Look, I'm sorry you're friend's ridin' the crazy train and all, but that ain't no reason to pull up roots for a suicide mission," Merle reasoned.

"It's not a suicide mission. We've got enough gas and food to get us back home. We'll pick up more on the way if we have to. We just need some help getting back on track. What you have here is more than we ever had in Alexandria," Glenn explained. "I'm not asking anybody to abandon this place. I'm asking for help for Rick. I'm asking for some help getting Alexandria back up on its feet. A month. Two months tops. I never would have left my son back home if I didn't think this trip was that important." He looked from Daryl to Carol. "We need help. It's been over a year, and I'm afraid if Rick doesn't pull out of this soon, he may not. We can run things on our own, but what we really need is somebody to help us get things back to what they were. I have a family to take care of. Daryl, I know you understand."

"I understand," Daryl said quietly. "I got a family that needs me here. We got a few supplies we can send back with you, but…"

"But you're gonna need manpower," Merle interrupted, standing up. Daryl and Carol looked to him, and he nodded. "What my baby brother's trying to say is he's got a whole group of people depending on him here. He leaves, this place is gonna fall apart. I ain't sayin' my sister-in-law would run the place into the ground, 'cause she's a better leader than any of us combined. But she's about to have a baby, and he's a part of that."

"I understand," Glenn said quietly.

"Well, your timing is shit," Merle snorted. He rubbed his jaw with his hand.

"We want to help," Carol assured Glenn. "Any way we can."

"I'll go," Merle offered after a moment. Everyone looked to him, but before anyone had a chance to say anything, he continued. "Look, I know Officer Friendly don't care much for me, but I'll do what I can. Least I can do considerin' I was there when the prison went down. I was part of the reason ya'll had to scatter and look for a place to live in the first place."

"You mean that?" Glenn asked.

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. 'Sides, I been itchin' for a roadtrip. Stay in one place too long, my feet go to sleep. I'll help."

"Thank you," Glenn offered with an appreciative nod. "Really. It means a lot."


	49. What Happens Next

Chapter 49: What Happens Next

After the meeting with Glenn, Rosita and Aaron, Carol and Daryl had pulled her aside to ask her a few questions. It turned out that Eugene's talk of being a scientist had been an outright lie. He'd had zero physical combat skills and knew if he didn't have somebody fighting at his side, he would've died within a month of the world going to shit. But, Rosita had explained, Eugene had admitted his lie about week after they'd left and headed back to D.C. Still, he'd proven to be a big asset with his vast knowledge of things most people didn't think about in the day to day scheme of things.

Still, as Daryl lay awake looking at the ceiling, he couldn't help but think how it would have been damned nice to have just a little piece of the old world back to show his children. He still remembered the excitement of the rare treat to the movies, sitting in the front row with a big tub of popcorn while the larger than life characters came to life on the screen in front of him. He remembered as a teen, hitching a ride with some friends and sneaking into the amusement park and riding roller coasters until he was dizzy. He still remembered the colorful lights whizzing past him at what then felt like a hundred miles an hour.

This world was less colorful, less exciting, and more dangerous. He hated that his children were confined to living behind walls, but it was necessary. They had plenty of freedom to run about the place in safety, but there were always threats. As long as there were people, there would be threats.

They'd gotten lucky. Their biggest threats had been drought and walkers. Back in Alexandria, they'd had it much worse. He remembered Rick, even right at the beginning when he was angry as hell at him for leaving Merle on that rooftop. Rick was a man with a level head and a heart focused on being a good father and husband but also on being a decent human being. And with all the shit he'd had to endure since the farm, it didn't seem right that he was quickly losing everything and everyone important to him. Daryl counted himself lucky he had Carol and their kids and all the people they'd welcomed into their lives.

A heavy sigh escaped him, and Carol shifted in bed beside him.

"You ok?" she asked softly, stroking Daryl's chest with her fingertips. Daryl yawned and groaned softly, rubbing his hand up and down Carol's arm.

"Mmm."

"You've been quiet."

"Just tired. Thinkin'."

"Me too," she murmured. "If you want to go…"

"I ain't leavin' you. Don't even ask me to do that," Daryl insisted. "I ain't goin' nowhere you ain't goin'."

"Daryl." Carol grimaced and sat up in bed. She turned to face Daryl, and he stared up at her. "Maybe there's a way to join both communities."

"What? Them come here or us go there?"

"Well, we could have Merle feel it out. If Alexandria has more space and more possibility, maybe we could…"

"Pick up and move everybody all the way to D.C.? How're we gonna do that?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "I guess, maybe it doesn't necessarily have to be everybody."

"What're you sayin'?"

"We've made this place work. We did what we could with what we have," Carol said quietly. "But we've struggled through more than one drought. Sometimes the crops are weak. And we're surrounded by woods. We're a target out here in the middle of nowhere."

"Alexandria sounds like a target, too."

"Yeah, but from the looks of Aaron's pictures, I think the walls seem taller. It looks like they have a more active presence in guarding the wall. Trained fighters. They fought off a whole herd of people surrounded by walkers and won. That's an asset. And they're close to the ocean. You've got a natural wall at your back, and it has an endless supply of food."

"You're really thinkin' about this?"

"I'm thinking of our friends. Of us. The kids. This is a great place, Daryl. It's _ours_. But it wouldn't take much for us to be in the same shape as Alexandria right now. And the closest towns we make our supply runs to are wiped clean. We're going further and further out." She lay back down and put her hand upon her belly. "I don't know."

"Hey," Daryl murmured, reaching up and stroking her cheek. "This place right here? This is the place that I'm worried about the most. I'm sorry for what they're goin' through back in Alexandria, but this place takes priority, 'cause our family's here." Carol stared down at him. A lot of things had happened, and a lot of time had passed since Hershel's farm was lost. In the beginning, they'd nearly gotten themselves killed on more than one occasion trying to find Rick and everyone else. But life had had a different plan and sent Rick on a different path. Daryl's journey had led him to having everything he'd never had before. Happiness. Love. Family. Stability. "This is the first home I ever had, and I ain't givin' up on it." Carol took a deep breath then and blinked back tears.

"Me neither," she agreed. "This is our home."

"Made our family here. Even if we ever leave it for a little while, we'll come back." Carol gently brushed her hand over his cheek and sniffled.

"I love you," she murmured.

"Me too," he grinned, before pulling her down to him for tender kiss.

...

Merle stood in front of Andrea's house, looking up at the pale light coming from the upstairs windows. He looked back toward his house. He was gonna miss that place. It had been home for the last few years, and he'd even surprised himself in volunteering to go. But he knew if he hadn't, his brother would have been conflicted about going. He knew Daryl was devoted to his family, but there was always going to be that part of him that felt he had to help everybody. He was good like and always had been.

The last of his things were packed, and it wouldn't be long before he was heading off east with people he barely knew to help a group of people he knew even less. The idea of leaving Daryl and Carol and the kids stung to think about it, but the more he thought about leaving, the more he realized he was leaving someone else behind that he really didn't want to leave.

Andrea's arrival to the community had done more for Merle's outlook on life than anything had in a long time. He'd been a downright prick in the past, but she seemed to look past that and see that he was trying to be a better man. And that boy of hers looked up at him like the sun shone out of his ass or something. The kid was constantly following him around asking him questions, and at first he hadn't known how to react. But the more the kid hung around, the more he got used to it and the more he looked forward to walking him right back home to his mama just so she'd invite him in for some lemonade or cider.

She was a beauty, Andrea Harrison, and when she smiled at him, it was like looking into the face of an honest to god angel. And the idea of not seeing her face every day was unsettling. There was a hollowness in his chest he couldn't describe, but he didn't like the feeling.

"You gonna stay out there all night?" Andrea asked.

"Why not? Wasn't all that many years ago I was used to sleepin' under the stars."

"Hmm." Andrea took a seat on the porch steps, and she scooted over. Merle shifted his weight from heel to heel before finally taking a seat beside her. "Dylan keeps asking if he can go, too." Andrea chuckled. "I keep reminding him we've spent his whole life outside these walls. But he thinks you'll need backup." She grinned, and Merle laughed.

"You got a helluva kid there, you know that?"

"Yeah, he's pretty great," Andrea agreed. "He's kept me going the last five years. Some days I look back and wonder how the hell I did it. But I did."

"This world has a way of pushin' ya right through the limits ya thought were holdin' you back." Andrea turned her head to look at him.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said with a little nod. "I've done a lot of things out there that keep me awake at night. I did them for him. To keep him alive. To keep us safe. And I'm here behind these walls, and it feels like someone else's nightmare. Only, I carry the scars." She pulled her arms around herself and shivered.

"Whatever you had to do to get where you are now, it's part of ya. Ain't goin' away. Just gotta live with it and move on."

"That's what you're doing? Going with Glenn to Alexandria? You're moving on?"

"Takin' care of things so Daryl don't have to. He's got a lot to look forward to, and I wanna let him enjoy that. Didn't have much growin' up, but he got himself a family that's worth holdin' onto."

"That's sweet."

"Yeah, well, don't tell him I said that. He wouldn't believe it anyway." He glanced at her, and a little smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. A moment later, she pressed her lips against his in a soft kiss that ended almost as quickly as it started. And then she stood up and started toward the front door. She paused just inside the doorway and turned. He looked over his shoulder and watched the smile spread over her face.

"Are you coming in or what?"

...

"Where'd you go?" Rosita asked, sitting up in bed and pulling the sheet up over her chest.

"What?" Glenn asked, folding his arms behind his head. He tore his gaze from the ceiling he'd been staring at for the past ten minutes and looked at Rosita.

"You were a million miles away for a minute."

"Sorry," he murmured. "Just a lot on my mind."

"I know." She leaned down and kissed him. "You ok?"

"Yeah." He reached for her hand and placed it against his chest. "Glad you're here with me. I know leaving Coco was hard for you."

"It was," she agreed. "But I can sleep at night knowing I'm doing something that's going to hopefully give her a chance at a future. I know you're doing the same thing for Hirsh." She settled back down in his arms, and he slowly slid his hand along the curve of her hip. "I know you have a history with Merle."

"He's willing to help. I'm grateful. I don't know how Rick'll react, but maybe seeing him will pull Rick out of wherever his head's at right now. If he can help us get Alexandria back to what it was, I'll owe him."

"I know you want Daryl along."

"I'd like to bring them all with us," Glenn admitted. "But that'd take more planning and more cars." Rosita smiled a little, bringing her hand up to brush through Glenn's hair. That little smile grew wider, and Glenn couldn't help but grin back. "What?"

"I'm just thinking how it feels like I was supposed to meet you."

"What do you mean?"

"I was here first. We stayed a while, we got to know people, and then we moved on. And then we found Alexandria. And surprise, you knew people we knew, and it just felt like we were meant to end up there. I'm just sorry about all the bad shit that went down since then."

"Me too," Glenn agreed, bringing his hand up to stroke through her hair. "But I'm not sorry about us. I loved my wife. I thought I'd die right along with her. But I didn't. I survived it somehow. And a lot of that's thanks to you. I never expected to fall in love with you."

"Me neither," Rosita admitted. "Surprised the hell out of me the first time I got those butterflies." Glenn chuckled, and Rosita leaned in to kiss him.

It had been a long road for both of them. After the funerals, they both kept to themselves for a long while, taking care of their kids on their own until one day, Rosita showed up at his door with an inconsolable Coco. She'd gone to Lori's first, only to find Lori and Rick in a heated argument. And the only other person she knew to go to that had experience with babies was Glenn. He'd let her in, and he'd helped her calm Coco down, and when Coco was finished crying, Rosita started. Glenn had just let her cry until he could find the words, and they'd spent a whole afternoon talking about raising a child alone in a world that kept trying to kill them. Glenn talked about Maggie. Rosita talked about Siddiq and how even though they weren't a couple, he was a good parenting partner and a good man, and she wished Coco would have gotten to grow up to know her dad.

After that day, they would schedule play dates for Hirsh and Coco, despite an age gap between the toddler and infant. Hirsh loved Coco and always asked for her, and they both figured it would do some good to let the kids bond. And as the kids bonded, so did they, until one evening after a late supper, Glenn got up to leave, and when Rosita walked him to the door, he turned and kissed her. In that moment, they found something in each other they never thought they'd find again, and while Glenn felt guilty about it for a long time, the more time he spent with Rosita, the more he realized he loved her more than he ever thought he could love another person again. And that night, without words, they began a journey together.

_Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your encouraging feedback! Please let me know what you think. Your feedback means more to me than you know! _


	50. Eviction Notice

Chapter 50: Eviction Notice

"We're still at least two weeks away," Carol insisted, standing in the kitchen with her hand on her back. "I haven't felt one contraction. Not one. We promised Merle when he left we'd go out once a week to the highest point of that hill and try the radio, just in case Eugene managed to fix something with the signal thingy."

"Signal thingy," Daryl snorted. "We're usin' the fancy words now, huh?"

"Shut up," she laughed. "We promised." She nodded toward Jerry and Nabila's house. "Take Jerry with you. He's been itching to get out of the house for a while." She narrowed her eyes at him. "It's a twenty minute drive, the road is clear, and you'll be home before you know it."

"You tryin' to get rid of me?" Daryl asked with a smirk. Carol rolled her eyes.

"It looks like it might snow. I'd rather have you home before you get caught in a snowstorm."

"Still lookin' after me after all this time, huh?" he asked, pulling his arms around her. Her belly bumped against him, and he looked down in awe. "You're so…"

"If you say 'big,' Daryl, I swear to God…" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I was gonna say beautiful, but you are…well, you're big. You sure you ain't hidin' two in there?"

"Don't even say that," Carol gasped, horrified. "Don't even think it."

"Thinkin' it ain't gonna make it so," Daryl snorted.

"No, no. Just don't go there." He hushed her with a kiss, and she laughed against his lips. "Now stop changing the subject." She pushed back on his shoulders. Daryl groaned but nodded his head.

"Alright, I'll go try the walkie. Still don't think it's gonna do no good. They're too far away."

"Glenn said Eugene's been working on a stronger radio, maybe one that'll contact this walkie on that frequency."

"I know, but it's an awful long way away."

"But it's still worth a shot just to see how everything's goin'. Unfortunately, we can't just tie a note to a bird's leg and send it their way."

"Who'd do that?" Daryl asked, furrowing his brows.

"You never watched those old shows? Sombody in some dark, old castle would send a raven or a pigeon."

"Pigeon?" Daryl asked. "Dumbest damn bird I ever seen, but…"

"Okay, let's move on," Carol laughed. "It's not important. But _this_ is." She put the walkie in his hand. "I'd do it myself, but…"

"I got it, I got it," he sighed. "You need to go sit yourself down on the couch and put your feet up."

"Please," Carol snorted. "Between Henry, Lydia and Luke, I don't have time to put my feet up."

"More reason I should stay and help you around here instead of goin' out."

"You're the only one here who knows exactly what to do and where to go. I'll be fine for a couple of hours. I'm not going to explode." Daryl looked down at her belly and quirked an eyebrow. Carol put her hand on his chin to lift his gaze back up. "Ha ha, very funny."

"Won't be long. I promise. Don't overdo it today. You promise?"

"I promise," she insisted.

"Alright. I'll be back after lunch. You call Denise over if anything happens."

"Not my first rodeo, Pookie," Carol offered with a wink. Daryl chuckled then and pulled her in for a kiss. He helped her clear the rest of the breakfast dishes before leaving, and when Carol finally made her way upstairs, she poked her head into Lydia's room. Lydia and Henry were over playing with Dylan, so the house was fairly quiet.

Since they seemed to keep acquiring children, Carol and Daryl had decided to keep the baby in their room until he or she was sleeping through the night. Right now, Luke and Henry shared a room, so Lydia was going to half to sacrifice part of her room before long, but she seemed fine with it. She was already asking all kinds of questions about the baby, eager to help out.

The past couple of months had been uneventful. Aside from Merle's leaving with Glenn, Rosita and Aaron, the most excitement they'd had was change in weather. Winter was coming, and everybody was busy weather-proofing their homes and stockpiling firewood. On top of that, the community had been working double duty to preserve all of the vegetables they'd harvested, and now they had a pretty good stock to get them through until spring.

Carol was due soon. She was uncomfortable, but she'd been nesting. She knew the baby was coming soon, and Daryl was already worrying himself over it. She remembered how flustered he'd gotten right before Luke's birth, and this wasn't any different. She was just thankful to have him as a partner. He held her hand and wiped her forehead and just tried to be supportive while she did all the hard work. She knew he'd be no different this time. Something about this one felt special. This was going to be the last.

She often looked at herself in the mirror, her long, silver hair pulled back, and she remembered standing in front of a similar mirror so many years ago, her long, dark hair pulled back as she caressed her stomach and dreamed of meeting her little girl and doing all of the things she used to do with her mother and grandmother. And when she looked in that mirror, she felt exhausted. But every minute had been worth it. She only wished Sophia could see her younger siblings and meet this new one. She knew Sophia would've been a wonderful big sister.

Carol opened Lydia's chest of drawers and began making room in half of them for the new baby's things. She knelt down and pulled a box out from Lydia's bed marked OLD BABY CLOTHESand began pulling out the tiniest little sleepers and outfits. She marveled at how her babies had once been so tiny they could fit in them, and soon, she'd have another tiny one who'd grow up in what would feel like the blink of an eye. It made her sad, but she knew this birth would bookend her extraordinary family, and she was looking forward to closing that chapter in her life.

A knock from downstairs pulled Carol from her daydreams, and it took her a few moments longer than usual to get down the stairs. When she arrived at the front door and opened it, Dog came rushing in ahead of Lydia, Henry and Dylan.

"Slow down!" she cried out, as they ran up the stairs. Andrea came walking in last, shaking her head in exasperation.

"If only we could bottle that energy, huh?"

"You're telling me," Carol sighed. "Just walking down the stairs make me want to take a nap."

"Yeah, not much longer, huh?" Andrea asked, touching Carol's belly. "You're carrying high like I did with Dylan."

"That doesn't mean anything," Carol laughed. "I carried low with Luke and with Sophia. This one's just confusing me all together."

"How are you feeling?" Andrea asked sympathetically, hugging her friend.

"Ready to write an eviction notice. No, I feel great. Really. I've been getting the house ready and keeping an eye on Daryl. He's nervous. He won't let on, but he is. But I'm exhausted. I'm up late with heartburn, and then I sleep in, and I feel groggy all day. My ankles are swollen, and I feel like this baby's pressing on every nerve in my lower back." She gasped softly then, putting her hand against her back as a sharp pain shot through it. Andrea raised her eyebrows.

"That great, huh?"

"Oh, I'll be fine. I'm just anxious to meet her, I guess."

"Her?"

"Oh," Carol laughed. "Daryl has me doing it now. He's convinced it's a girl. We have a little bet going on." She grinned. "Oh, speaking of Daryl, he's heading out to check the signal on the walkie. Maybe we'll hear from Merle today." Andrea hesitated, and Carol raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you should have gone along to tell him hello."

"Please. I'm sure he's forgotten all about me. He probably has a girlfriend in Alexandria by now. He'll bring her with him when he comes back."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Carol cocked an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. "When a Dixon man looks at a woman the way Merle looks at you, that's forever." Carol reached out and hugged Andrea. "Welcome to the family. You're stuck with us."

"Thanks," Andrea laughed. "So, what's the plan today? I thought I'd come hang out with you for a little bit." Carol eyed Andrea.

"Daryl sent you over here, didn't he?"

"He might have asked me to drop in," Andrea offered with a shrug. "Besides, I need some adult conversation. You up for it?"

"Oh, absolutely. If only I wasn't almost nine months pregnant, we could open up a bottle of red and have a girls' day."

"You have cider?"

"Do _I _have cider?" Carol furrowed her brows. "Wait, do I have cider? I have three kids living under my roof that drink it like their lives depend on it."

"You go sit down, I'll go check." Carol laughed then and headed to the living room, and as she sat down, another pain shot through her, this time through her lower belly. She took a deep breath then, and it was gone, and she told herself it was just a twinge. Moments later, Andrea appeared with two wine glasses and a bottle of fresh cider. "See? Girls day!" Carol laughed and smiled up at her friend as she poured her a glass. She was thankful for the laughter and for the experience of talking with another woman about things Daryl could certainly never understand, try as he might.

"So talk to me," Carol said with a sigh, absently stroking her belly with one hand while she clutched the glass of cider in the other.

"About what?" Andrea asked. Carol tensed then, gasping as another pain shot through her.

"Anything." Carol gasped softly, and Andrea's eyes went wide.

"Carol? You ok?"

"Yeah. Just back pain. It's nothing."

"Back pain like actual back pain? Or back pain like a contraction?"

"What?" Carol asked. "No. No, it's not that." She winced again, this time sitting up a little in her seat. Her hand stilled on her belly, and she groaned softly. Andrea put her cider glass down. "Where are you going?"

"I'm getting Denise. I think your eviction notice came through."


	51. Name Game

Chapter 51: Name Game

Daryl cursed under his breath as he knelt down by the rear of the pickup truck. He'd made it all the way up the hill, got no answer on the walkie and then headed back down to head home to Carol and the kids when he saw the tire was flat. He quickly found the issue. There were some rusty old nails down in the gravel, and one had punctured his tire just enough to flatten it in less than a half hour.

"God damn it," Daryl grunted, struggling with the tire iron as the old lug nuts finally started to turn. "Piece of shit. Next time I'm takin' a horse." He knew he should've taken the bike. Now he was going to be late getting back to Carol, and being his luck, she was going into labor and he was going to miss his kid's birth, because he ran over a fucking rusty nail that had probably been there for the past twenty years judging by the amount of rust on the damn thing.

The wind started picking up, and snow flurries began to swirl around. Daryl grimaced and worked through the next few lug nuts, huffing and puffing under his breath, cursing whoever invented the fucking lug nut in the first place. And as he did, the temperature began to drop. With a groan of frustration, he lifted the spare tire out of the back of the truck, tossed it toward the front and hurried to catch it before it rolled away.

It didn't take him long to change the tire once he finally got started, but by the time he was finished, the snow was coming down heavily, and there was already a good dusting on the road. Flecks of ice stuck to the ends of his hair, and he knew the roads were going to be shitty.

The wind was howling by the time he tightened the last lug nut and tossed the flat tire to the wayside, and when he heard the squeal of brakes cut through the howling wind, he turned to see a Jerry emerge from behind the wheel of a tiny old VW Beetle. He held his hands up over his eyes to block the snow from coming in, and Jerry waved his arms, shouting something Daryl couldn't hear through the howling wind.

"What?!" Daryl yelled. Jerry shouted again, but Daryl still couldn't hear him. The closer Jerry got, the wider his smile got. Daryl's face went pale, and he felt his heart start to pound.

"Denise sent me. It's all systems go!"

"What?" Daryl asked, peering at the man like he'd grown another head.

"Dude! You're about to be a daddy again!" Jerry went to shake Daryl's hand, but Daryl took a step back, and his heel caught a slick rock, sending him flying onto his back. Jerry's eyes went wide when Daryl went down. For a moment, Daryl couldn't breathe, and Jerry knelt down next to him, thumping him on the chest.

"Dude, you ok?"

"Fuck," Daryl growled when he found his breath. He rubbed the back of his head. Jerry held up three fingers.

"How many fingers do you see?" Daryl swatted his hand away and sat up quickly.

"Carol's in labor?"

"Yeah, and Denise says you better hurry. I guess that means it's coming fast. I wouldn't know. My kids weren't in any hurry. Poor Nabila." He shook his head. Daryl groaned then, rubbing the tender spot where his head had whacked the ground, and Jerry put his hand on his shoulder. "Okay, you better sit for a minute. I'll pull my car up. You can ride with me."

"Nah, I'm fine. Just need a minute," he panted. He closed his eyes as the pain throbbed in his head. He knew he was ok. He'd had worse injuries. But now he was dizzy with exhilaration. And then panic set in. His kid was coming, and if he didn't hurry, he was going to miss it. "Carol's…having the baby."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Man, you must've hit your head hard."

"We gotta go."

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying! Hang on. Let me pull the car up, and we'll just…" Jerry turned then and saw headlights coming up the road. "Somebody's coming."

"One of our people?"

"I don't think so. Unless we have an RV I don't know about."

"RV?" Daryl asked, grunting as he pulled himself to his feet. He peered through the snow to see the headlights get brighter as the vehicle approached. Another vehicle, what appeared to be a large box truck, followed closely after.

The RV screeched to a halt the second Daryl and Jerry stepped out toward the road. All was quiet aside from the howling wind for a moment, before the RV door opened, and a cloaked figure stepped out. Daryl and Jerry glanced at each other for a moment before the figure pulled the hood over his head.

"You assholes need a ride?" A grin spread across his face, and Daryl stared incredulously at the face in front of him.

"Dude, where you been?" Jerry asked with a laugh.

"Everywhere. Where you heading?"

"Home," Jerry explained. "Daryl's about to be a daddy again."

"No shit? Well, let's get you home before you miss the show." He nodded to the truck, and a mix of emotions flooded Daryl's face. He finally settled on relief and followed him onto the RV.

"The truck."

"That piece of shit still runs? Leave it. We'll get it after the snow, providing the wind doesn't blow it apart." He pointed to the driver's seat. "You wanna do the honors?"

"You think you can remember the way home?"

"I deserve that," he said with a nod. "But I'm back. And I brought friends." Daryl's eyes adjusted to the blue haze that settled through the RV as the snow began coming down faster and heavier outside. A few familiar faces stuck out in the small crowd. Glenn. Rosita. Aaron. And then a few faces he didn't know. There were several children, and everyone looked extremely exhausted. Rosita was sleeping with her head on Glenn's shoulder, while Glenn held a little girl in one arm and sat with his arm wrapped around a little boy that was his spitting image.

"Negan," Daryl choked out. "What the hell happened?"

"Long story. You wanna hear it now, or you wanna go watch your kid get born?" Daryl looked back to the weary travelers in the back of the RV and then back to Jerry. Jerry quickly took a seat behind Negan, while Daryl climbed into the passenger's seat. Negan chuckled and started the engine. "Where's my brother?"

"Right behind me. We brought the whole crew. Hope you've still got those spare rooms." He stepped on the gas, and Daryl leaned his head back against the seat, feeling his head start to swim. His eyes fluttered closed, and he felt a hand shake his shoulder. "Hey. Save the passing out for the delivery room. Hang in there, buddy. Let's get you home to your girl."

...

Daryl took the stairs two at a time when he got home, finding the house quiet and empty. When he got upstairs, Denise and Andrea were both sitting with Carol, who had her hair pulled up and back. She was red-faced and puffy-eyed, but she was still very pregnant.

"He made it," Andrea sighed with relief.

"I got here as soon as I could."

"Daryl," she breathed, letting out a choked sob and smiling through her tears when Daryl crossed the room to greet her with a kiss and a hug.

"You ok?"

"It's coming fast," Carol panted, bearing down as another contraction hit her.

"Yeah, her water broke before I got back from getting Denise. This one's in a hurry."

"You got here just in time, Dad," Denise said with a grin, peeking over the rim of her glasses.

"Yeah, had a little trouble." Carol's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "Everything's fine. I got a lot of people with me who are anxious to see you."

"What?" Carol asked.

"Let's just say, this kid's gonna have a hell of a welcoming party," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as she relaxed and unclenched her fists from the sheets. He looked to Denise as Carol pushed. "What can I do?"

"Get ready. You're gonna have a kid in about five minutes." Daryl looked down at his hands. They were filthy from changing the tire, and the last thing he wanted to do was hold his new baby with filthy hands. So, he rushed into the bathroom and scrubbed his hands clean, and when he returned, Carol was sitting up a little. He immediately got behind her on the bed, supporting her back and letting her lean into him.

"This ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah, better," she panted.

"Okay, Carol. Scoot your butt down a little. Good. Perfect. Alright. When the contraction hits, push ha—" Carol cried out before Denise could finish speaking, and she bore down, pushing hard again. "Good. Good girl. You're doing so good. The head's right here. It's right here, Carol. Keep pushing." Daryl let Carol take hold of his hands, and she squeezed him as she bore down. He whispered softly against her ear as she pushed against each contraction, and when she fell back against his chest, he saw a grin spread across Denise's face. "This might be the cutest squished face I've ever seen. I think you've got another little redhead on your hands."

"Oh God," Andrea cooed. "Look at that." She wiped back her tears. "Carol, I think this one looks like you."

"Get the towel ready," Denise instructed Andrea. Andrea sniffled and grabbed the soft towel, holding it out as Denise cleared the baby's nose and mouth. "Okay, Carol, when the next contraction hits, I need you to push. The hard part's over. The head's out, but it's not over yet, ok? I need another big push." Carol panted through the ebbing pain, and when it hit her again, she pushed hard. "Good. Good. Good. Harder. One more. That's it. Good job!" Daryl watched as everything moved so fast. Denise quickly lifted the baby up and into Andrea's waiting hands. She clamped off the cord and cut it before Andrea laid the baby in Carol's waiting arms.

"Oh God," Carol panted.

"Look at that," Daryl murmured, kissing the side of Carol's head. "You did it." A fierce cry pierced the air, and Carol giggled.

"What've we got, Mom and Dad?" Denise asked, working on Carol as the new mom and dad fawned over their new baby. She, of course, already knew the answer, but seeing new parents' surprise was always part of the fun.

"I didn't even look," Carol laughed. She shifted the baby in her arms and took a quick peek, and then she looked up at Daryl with a laugh. "You were right."

"Told you so," he grinned. She kissed him then, and he chuckled against her lips. Andrea gently wiped the baby off with the towel, as Carol rocked gently back and forth in the bed.

"Hi, baby girl," she whispered. "We've been waiting so long for you." She laughed through her tears and kissed the top of the baby's head. "Look at you. Hi!"

"She does look like you," Daryl murmured. "Think she's gonna have your freckles."

"Yeah?" she asked. "I think so, too."

...

"That one's got that Dixon smile," Merle beamed at his new niece.

"She's an hour old," Carol laughed. "How can you tell?"

"A Dixon knows these things. Just you wait. But she's definitely got her mama's eyes and nose. Prettiest little thing I've seen in a minute."

"Hey!" Lydia pouted.

"Hey, you ain't little no more," Merle pointed out. He pulled his arm around Andrea's waist. "Help me out here, darlin'."

"Oh, no. You better explain yourself, mister," she teased. Dylan peeked up at his mother and Merle, and he looked at the baby and then back up at his mother. "What's on your mind, Dyl?"

"Can I have a little sister, too?" he asked. Andrea's jaw dropped, and Merle snickered.

"It's that that simple, son," Andrea laughed.

"I'm almost six, Mommy. I know."

"Oh, you know? Who told you?" Andrea asked.

"Merle did," Dylan said, pointing to the older Dixon. Andrea glared at Merle, and Merle glared at Dylan.

"Now wait a damn minute, boy. You tell your mama exactly what I told you. Get me outta the dog house, why don't ya?" Dylan furrowed his brows and looked up at his mom in all seriousness.

"Merle said moms and dads make babies when they have more love than they know what to do with."

"That's…all he said?" Andrea asked.

"Well, yeah. Why? What else is there?" the boy asked. Andrea, red-faced, let out a laugh and looked at the baby, praying for a distraction. The baby did not disappoint.

"Hey, look at that. She's yawning!" Everybody turned their attention back to the newborn, and Andrea sighed in relief that it was enough of a distraction to get Dylan's curious mind on something else.

"What's her name, Mama?" Luke asked, snuggling up close to Carol in the bed to get a closer look at his baby sister.

"Well, what do you think we should name her?" Carol asked.

"Sophia!" Luke offered. Carol smiled down at her little boy and touched his nose.

"That's very sweet, honey, but you already have a sister named Sophia."

"What about Carol?" Lydia asked.

"Oh goodness. One Carol Dixon is enough for this family." She looked up at Daryl and winkled. "Right?"

"I don't know. Kinda has a nice ring." Carol shot him a look, and he smirked.

"What about Lucy?" a soft, curious voice asked. Daryl turned from where he stood by Carol's bed, and Carol looked up to see Henry standing in the doorway holding onto his father's hand. At the mention of his late wife's name, Negan let out a breathy sigh, and his lower lip trembled through the smile at his son's suggestion.

Carol gasped softly and looked up at Daryl. Her eyes welled with tears, and she looked down at the baby.

"I don't know. What do you think, little one? Lucy Dixon."

"Lyddie, Luke and Lucy," Lydia chirped. Carol looked up at Daryl, who couldn't help the smile on his face at the perfect suggestion, and then she looked to Negan.

"You're as much as part of this family as Henry. What do you think?" He cleared his throat and stepped into the room, picking up his son so the boy could get a better look at the baby.

"Lucy," Negan said with a little nod. "I think that's about the best name I ever heard."

_Author's Note: I changed my mind over and over again with how this chapter was going to go. And I think I re-wrote a couple of scenes about three times along the way. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! More coming soon! Thanks so much for reading!_


	52. The Cell

Chapter 52: The Cell

It was late, and the house was finally quiet. Andrea and Merle had taken Lydia and Luke for the night, and Henry was sticking close to his dad. He was sleeping on the couch in Carol and Daryl's living room when Daryl came down the stairs to find Negan sitting in the chair by the couch. He was watching his boy sleep, but when he heard Daryl step into the room, he looked up.

"Everything ok up there?" Negan asked.

"Yeah. Baby's sleeping, so Carol's sleeping."

"Good. Congratulations, man. She's beautiful." Daryl nodded his thanks, and looked at Henry.

"How's he doing?"

"Can't tell if he's glad I'm back or mad at me for leaving. Maybe both. I can't blame him." He cleared his throat and rubbed his tired eyes. "Jesus, I feel like I'm gonna crash for a goddamn week. Not exactly sure where I'm sleeping tonight, but…"

"You can stay at Merle's. Think there might be a bed left over there. It's gonna be a damn crowded winter, but at least everybody'll keep warm." Negan chuckled at that. "How the hell did you find them?"

"Still not quite sure myself," Negan admitted. He nodded toward the kitchen, and Daryl followed him. The two men sat down across from each other at the table, and Negan cleared his throat. "After I ran into Andrea and her kid out there on the road, I just kept heading east. I turned back half a dozen times, just wanting to get back to my kid, but I was going out of my fucking mind. I mean, you don't even know the half of it. Second week I was out there alone, I swear I started hallucinating. I was seeing my wife, hearing her voice. Sometimes, I swear I could feel her hand touching mine. I was losing it. You ever see that movie with Tom Hanks. Shit, what was that called? The one with the volleyball. _Castaway_. Yeah, that one. He named the goddamn thing, and you know, I was walking around with that bat, swinging it, hitting tree trunks and shit, and I just kept hearing the words in my head. _Lucille. Lucille_. And I remember Lucy teasing me about how I should give it a girl's name." He shook his head and took a deep breath.

"So what kept you going?"

"Henry," Negan admitted. "Every time I felt myself starting to lose my grip on reality, I just thought of him. It was hard at first, because every time I saw him, I wanted to slit my own throat for leaving him like that. But I kept going, and I told myself that I was going to keep going until I knew for sure I could be the kind of dad he needed. He didn't need some worthless, half-cracked asshole going through the motions. He needs a dad. He needs _me._ So I kept going, and I kept thinking about him and how I was going to find whatever the hell it was I was looking for." Daryl narrowed his eyes at Negan. "Yeah, I know. It sounds crazy. I was crazy. Hell, I was hallucinating my dead wife and having conversations with her. I didn't know what I was doing out there. But I kept going."

"East."

"Yeah. And then I started getting this cough. It was a little tickle in the throat, at first, and then it was this rattling, racking cough that made my bones shake. I fought some old cough syrup about two years expired, and I damn near drank the whole bottle. Blacked out for what was probably two days, and when I woke up, I was sicker than before. But I kept going. And one night, I heard something. This little laugh. And at first I thought I was hallucinating again, but I kept walking. And then I heard another laugh. A different laugh. And I got closer, and then I saw it. Houses lit up behind walls. At first I thought I was home. Here. The gates opened, and somebody stepped out, and the next thing I knew, everything was spinning. I woke up handcuffed to a goddamn hospital bed. I had some makeshift IV that looked like a candy striper set it up, and there was this man sitting at the end of my bed. He had these dark, sunken eyes, like he'd been through some shit. His voice was hoarse when he asked me my name. And then I passed out again. Next time I woke up, I was in some dark little jail cell, laying on a stiff, musty mattress, and I heard this voice. I looked over, and I saw this woman in the cell next to mine. This pale woman with short, patchy hair, like it'd just grown in. Her skin was splotchy like she'd been picking at it. And she was rocking in her cot, just rocking and staring up at the moon. Was the creepiest fucking thing I've ever seen. And she was just singing. Singing this goddamn line over and over again. '_Lydia, oh! Lydia, that encyclopedia. Oh! Lydia, the Queen of Tattoo. On her back is the Battle of Waterloo.' _Just over and over and over again."

Daryl sat forward a little in his chair.

"Now I know what you're thinking. I was hallucinating, right? I had just lost what was left of my fucking mind, right?" Negan snorted. "Yeah, well after about the seven hundredth loop, I was ready to bash my own brains against the brick wall. And when sunrise came, that same man that'd been sitting at the end of my bed came in. Him and some guy that looked like Jesus. Funny story. He goes by Jesus." He cleared his throat. "They took me to some room. Some little makeshift church or something. I stood in front of a council of people I'd never seen a day in my goddamned life. And they tell me to tell my story. And the guy from the infirmary is leaning against the wall staring at me like I fucked his mother and made him call me daddy. And they tell me to tell them why they should let me in. And I never asked for that. I just passed out at their gates. All I did was walk up to their gates and pass the fuck out. These people looked weak. Hungry. Beaten down. Like the sky had opened up and taken a giant shit on their parade."

"So what'd you tell them?"

"I just started talking."

"Yeah, you're good at that," Daryl snorted.

"I told them I'd come from a safe zone in Georgia outside of Atlanta. That was my first mistake. See, the prick leaning against the wall comes over and grabs me by the shirt and makes me sit down. Cuffs me to a chair. I figure he's going to blow my brains out or torture me or some shit just for telling the truth. Instead, they let me keep talking. So I told them I'd lost my wife and I've been traveling for weeks just trying to get my head on straight and get my shit together so I could go back and be a dad to my kid. So they keep asking me all kinds of shit about where I came from, so I'm telling them without telling them, you know, because these people seem like the shoot first, ask questions type. But imagine _my_ surprise when I mention _your _name. Amazing how one five letter word can almost light a room on fire. So this guy, this asshole that cuffed me to a chair comes up and grabs me by the throat, asks me how I know that name. And I think pretty hard about kneeing him in the balls, but I figure he's got the upper hand, so I just said you had a place in Georgia that was safe. He asked some more questions, and I guess I answered right, cause they took the handcuffs back off. Next thing I know, they're taking me back to jail. Before he slams the bars in my face, I ask him his name. He looks at me, he gets real close and then he tells me. Rick Grimes."

Daryl got up from the table then, and he took a few pacing steps before he turned back to Negan.

"Well, my dumbass just lit up with a big 'ole smile and said 'yeah, I know all about you,' which, in retrospect isn't what you wanna say to a guy that looks like he'd rip your throat out with his teeth. So he gets all paranoid, and I'm backtracking, talking about how I know Daryl was with his group originally. I tell him I know about Atlanta, that he's got a kid and a wife. I tell him I know how the group got split up after the farm got overrun. He's looking at me like he's seen a ghost. And then he just turns and walks away." He shook his head. "And the woman in the other cell, she doesn't even look my way. She just stares at the wall, and she just starts singing that goddamn song again."

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair.

"They kept me in that cell almost a week. They brought me food. They'd bring her food, and she'd pick at it like a bird. And on that last day, she actually looked at me, and she told me she was in Georgia once. Her eyes go wide, and I realize she's crying. And she tells me she was near Atlanta once and asks me if I saw a girl where I was. A little girl that maybe looked like her. A little girl with her eyes." He watched as the color drained from Daryl's face. "She asked about a dog. A german shepherd. Said the little girl would be about five now. Last she saw her was somewhere between here and Birmingham, somewhere not far from Atlanta."

Daryl felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He bowed his head for a moment and he moved to stand behind the chair, keeping his hands on the back rest for support.

"That's when I remember hearing Carol tell Lucy about Lydia. And I think, how on this goddamn earth did I end up in a cell next to this woman? _This_ woman. And I played it off. I told her I didn't see any kids. And she looks, I don't know, relieved. Like she really didn't want to know. And she starts singing that goddamn song again."

"You think that was…"

"I think that was a crazy woman who didn't have any business being around any human beings, let alone a kid."

"What else did she say?"

"Not another thing to me. Not one thing. Rick came and brought me out a few days after that. They let me out on a trial basis, and not long after that, I see a familiar face again. Merle shows up with the lovebirds and Aaron. He looks at me like he's having a stroke, and then Ricky Boy looked like he was gonna have himself his own stroke. Shit, he does _not_ like your brother. But, as we both know, he tends to lack a certain charm that endears people to him right off. I could tell they had a past, and Glenn was trying to smooth things over with Rick, explaining that Carol was about to have a kid and you couldn't come, and so Merle was there to help get things back to where they were before. Rick wasn't having it, but Aaron and Jesus convinced him to let Merle help. And hell, I volunteered. Anything to keep me out of that god forsaken cell." He snorted. "Though I found out all about the crazy woman, how she called herself Alpha. She led her people wearing walker skins to Alexandria's gates, infiltrated the walls and killed some of their people."

Daryl swallowed hard. His tongue felt thick and dry in his mouth, and he tried hard to process all of the information being thrown at him at once. Rick, Alexandria, the woman who very well may have been Lydia's mother. But surely that wasn't her. It was a big world out there, albeit smaller in population, but surely it wasn't the same woman. Still, Daryl couldn't shake the feeling that Lydia's mother was this awful, evil woman that had led her people to kill Carl and Maggie and many others.

"Where is she?" Daryl asked. "The woman. What happened to her?"

"Well, wasn't long after Merle came that a few rogue Whisperers showed up. They got over the walls in the dead of night, and they just started fucking slaughtering people. Now, you'll have to ask your brother about the rest with the woman in the cell. All I know is what he told me, and that's that her people came for her. Oh, but they weren't there to save her. They were there to kill her. Well, in all the chaos with bodies out in the street, Merle sees the basement door of Rick's house just wide open. He shows up just as these freaks are about to off Alpha, and he kills 'em. Rick comes out, all covered in blood from the fight outside, and I guess him and Merle were going to take her someplace else. The whole fucking house was in flames, and the smoke was starting to pour in. They got her out of the jail and were just about to cuff her when a couple of the walkers came stumbling in. See, the folks these skin freaks killed were starting to reanimate. The way Merle tells it? She didn't even put up a fight when one of those things sunk its teeth into her neck. She just closed her eyes and started humming that goddamn song." He looked to Daryl. "Now all I know is that was one scary woman, and Lydia is lucky as hell the two of you found her. Whatever the truth is, Lydia's a great kid. I just thought maybe you should know."

"Thanks for telling me. I, uh, I don't really know how to take all of this."

"A lot of bad shit went down. A lot. Alexandria was a total loss. Everybody grabbed what they could and got the hell outta there. Merle and me decided we'd bring 'em back here. We're gonna have some expanding to do, but at least everybody's in one spot." He looked toward the living room. "Think he'll forgive me for leaving?"

"You're his dad. And you're here now. That's what's gonna matter to him when it counts."

"Thank you. I owe you and Carol everything. It was a shitty thing to do, leaving like that, just dropping him on you guys like that."

"Henry's a good kid. He's part of the family. So are you."

"Means a lot to hear you say that, Daryl." Both men headed for the living room again, and Negan leaned down to pick his sleeping son up off the couch. "You've got a lot of people eager to see you, you know?"

"How is he?" Daryl asked. "Rick."

"I didn't know the man before all this. I mean, I didn't have much of a chance to get to know him except for these past few weeks on the road. The man's tired. He's lost almost everything. Some things you don't come back from. Losing Lucy nearly killed me. I came back though. I'm glad I came back."

"Go get some sleep."

"Yeah, you too, if she'll let you," Negan chuckled. Henry yawned in his sleep and curled his arms around his dad's neck. Negan reached out, and he and Daryl clasped hands. "Congratulations, brother."


	53. Home

Chapter 53: Home

"Ow."

"M'sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"It's kinda my fault."

"Kind of mine, too. It takes two, you know. Ow! Ow!"

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok. Just…ahhh…." Carol sunk down into the bathtub, and Daryl winced but sobered when Carol relaxed in the warm water. Carol peeked over toward the doorway. "You think she's ok in there?"

"She's got a belly full of milk and a fresh diaper. She snores like her mama, by the way."

"Hey!" Carol laughed. Daryl grinned and moved his chair behind the tub, lifting Carol's long, silver hair out from behind her back.

"Can ya lean up a little?"

"Mmm," she murmured sleepily, leaning forward a little while Daryl scooped up a cupful of warm water and poured it over her head. He took her favorite shampoo and lathered it up in his hands before gently massaging his fingers through her scalp. "Oh my God, that feels amazing."

"You sure you're feelin' up to this?"

"Daryl, we've been hoping for this for almost six years," Carol murmured. "Our friends are home. The last of them, anyway."

"You been through a lot. I'm just saying we could wait a couple days."

"Daryl, I'm feeling fine. Really." Daryl sighed then, but he understood. Her stubbornness was part of the reason he loved her so much, and he wouldn't deny her the happiness of reuniting with old friends. "Just sore and tired, but I don't have to do a tap dance. I'm just seeing friends."

"Alright," he chuckled. "Close your eyes." She did as he asked, and he poured a few cupfuls of water over her head, rinsing out the soap before repeating with conditioner. After he rinsed her hair out again, he scooted his chair back over to the side of the tub. Carol leaned back against the back of the tub and gently began washing herself, wincing in pain from time to time, and Daryl felt helpless.

"You don't have to sit here and watch me, you know," Carol chuckled.

"I know." He cleared his throat and picked at the cuticle on his thumb. Carol narrowed her eyes at him.

"What's going on?"

"What?"

"You've been quiet all morning. Did something happen last night?"

"No."

"Then why do you look like you're avoiding something?"

"I ain't."

"Daryl." She sat up a little in the tub, and Daryl finally looked her in the eye.

"It's somethin' about Alpha."

"The crazy woman that led the Whisperers to Alexandria?"

"Yeah," Daryl said quietly. "Negan spent a lot of time with her. Well, close to her, anyway. Rick locked him in the jail when he first got there."

"Why?" Carol asked, making a face.

"Trust issues," Daryl said quietly. "I guess this woman was just insane. She didn't talk much. But she listened. I guess she heard Negan talking about the farm here and being near Atlanta. So one day, outta the blue, she asked him if he saw a girl. A little girl that looked like her. Mentioned a dog. A German shepherd. And she sang this song. Something about a girl named Lydia." Carol's face went pale.

"What? That can't be…are you sure?"

"It's what Negan said. He said this woman was just crazy. Lost. But he said she'd been to Birmingham."

"Oh God. Daryl. Do you think she's Lydia's mother?"

"It don't matter anymore. She's dead."

"Dead?"

"Yeah. The night Alexandria went down, her own people came back to kill her. I guess Merle got to them first, killed them, and then she let the walkers take her." He watched the way her eyes glistened with tears before one spilled over. She brushed it away and shook her head. "She couldn't have known those things."

"No," Daryl said quietly.

"Lydia asks about her, you know. Her first mother. She still asks."

"I know," Daryl said quietly.

"What do we tell her?"

"We tell her this world ain't meant for some folks. You either fight like hell to survive or you let it eat you up and turn you into a monster. We tell her we're lucky we found her, 'cause we didn't save her that day. She saved us." Carol reached her soapy hand out for his, and he gave it a squeeze.

"She did, didn't she?" Carol asked softly. Daryl brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. Just then, Lucy began to fuss in the other room, and a grin spread over his face. "I should…"

"Nah, you relax. I've got her." He stood and leaned down to kiss his wife before turning to go tend to their newborn daughter. Carol leaned back into the tub again and blinked back tears before wiping them away. She sniffled and looked up when Daryl came back into the room holding their sweet little girl.

"She ok?"

"Yeah. She's perfect."

...

Daryl put one last log onto the fire to combat the chill in the air. Dog lifted his head from where he was curled up in front of the fireplace, and Daryl scratched him behind the ears.

Lucy was swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the bassinet, and Daryl pulled it just a little closer to the hearth for warmth, but far enough away to keep her safe. Carol came waddling slowly into the living room before tossing a soft pillow onto the couch and sitting on it. She grimaced, and Daryl turned to help her sit back.

"You feeling ok?"

"Be glad you'll never know what it's like to walk around feeling like your insides are about to fall out." Daryl made a face, and Carol grimaced again. "I'm fine. Just sore. She's a pound heavier than Luke when he was born."

"It was all them pickles you ate," Daryl teased. Carol made a face, but she couldn't help but smile when Daryl leaned back over the bassinet and made sure Lucy was warm.

"Mommy, I hold baby now?" Luke asked, following Lydia into the living room from the kitchen.

"Not right now, baby. She's sleeping," Carol said softly.

"She sleeps a lot," Luke sighed.

"Oh, just wait," Daryl smirked. "Soon she'll be wakin' us up almost as much as you did."

"Yeah. You were a crybaby, Luke," Lydia teased.

"Hey," Carol said softly. "Now, be nice."

"I'm not a crybaby!" Luke insisted.

"Come here," Carol laughed. "Come sit by me." She patted the couch, and Luke climbed up to sit next to his mom. Lydia moved to sit at her other side, and Carol wrapped her arms around them both, pulling them in close. "I am _so_ lucky."

"Why?" Luke asked.

"Well," Carol grinned, "a long time ago, I wasn't sure I was ever going to be happy again. But then daddy and I brought Lydia home, and she just made everything so much brighter. She made us see just how much love we had left in us, and because of that, we ended up with you, Luke."

"I did all that?" Lydia asked with wide eyes. "Wow."

"Wow's right," Daryl laughed. "You're a pretty special kid. You know that?" He reached down and lifted her up, pulling her up and tickling her. She laughed and kicked her legs.

"Daddy!" she laughed. "No tickling!" She giggled until she was breathless, and Daryl put her back on the couch.

"And then I got born. You loved me so much I got a baby sister!" Luke reasoned.

"Well, something like that," Carol laughed. "We certainly planned on you, Luke. You're my little boy, and that makes you very special to me. My only little boy. And Lucy's special, because she's my last baby."

"And Sophia?" Lydia asked softly.

"Your big sister showed me just how much love I could have for another person." She kissed the top of Lydia's head. "And _you_ reminded me of everything I loved about being a mom." Daryl watched his wife with their children and said a silent thank you to the fates for bringing them into his life. Despite the awful condition of the world outside their walls, inside they had love, friends and family. It was everything he never had in the world before.

Someone knocked at the door, and Daryl got up to go greet their visitor. As soon as he opened the door, he was greeted by a grin from his big brother.

"How's my favorite niece this morning?"

"Don't say that shit around Lydia," Daryl warned.

"I can have two favorite nieces, for Christ sakes. Just can't let either one of them know that." Daryl rolled his eyes, and he stepped out of the way to let him in. Daryl peered over his shoulder to see someone approaching the house. A man, a woman and a little girl. But the man's face was hidden behind a thick beard, and a thick scar ran down his cheek. The woman looked frail and tired, and the little girl that skipped along between them was the spitting image of her mother.

"Rick's comin'."

"Yeah, about that. Look, Officer Friendly weren't never my favorite person. That ain't a secret. But a lot's changed. Lost his kid, gonna lose his wife." Daryl flinched at that. "They ain't gonna make it. They're just together right now for the kid. Soon as they get settled, they'll go their own ways. Guess some couples just weren't built for some kinds of pain. But from what I hear, they're better off apart." Merle rubbed the scruff on his chin. "He ain't the kind of man used to takin' orders."

"I ain't the kind of man that's gonna be givin' 'em. Not to Rick."

"You know Rick better'n I do. Once he gets comfortable here, he's gonna start doin' things his way. It's just who he is." Daryl shook his head.

"Ain't gonna be like that here." Daryl insisted.

"Hope you're right, bro." Merle clapped him on the shoulder and headed into the living room to see Carol and the kids. Rick was the first at the door, and when his eyes locked on Daryl's, they both paused for a moment. Daryl noticed the grey peppering Rick's hair. Rick noticed the way Daryl carried himself like a man more sure of himself, not like the reckless kid from the farm.

"Jesus, look at you," Daryl muttered, as a grin spread over Rick's face. It seemed strange with the pain in his eyes, like it was the first time he'd smiled in a long time.

"Look at me? Look at you. Look what you've done with this place."

"You done the same back in Alexandria, I hear," Daryl pointed out as Rick enfolded him in a warm hug.

"Sorry we didn't stay longer on that highway."

"Ya didn't have a choice. Glenn told us about it," Daryl said quietly. "We kept lookin' though. We didn't give up 'til the weather started getting bad."

"I know. Merle."

"Right," Daryl said with a chuckle. "Look, m'sorry I didn't stick around to see everybody last night."

"Hey, don't. Don't. You had other things to worry about. I get it. How's she doing?"

"She's ready to see everybody." At that moment, Lori stepped inside holding onto the hand of a dark-haired little girl who had her mother's smile. Daryl was taken aback in that moment by how much Judith resembled Andrea's boy Dylan.

"Daryl," Lori sighed, quickly pulling him into a hug. "Thank you for having us here."

"If we're gonna have a future, we're gonna need people," Daryl said with a nod. "These kids gotta learn from somebody, right?"

"Speaking of kids," Lori smiled, "I hear congratulations are in order. How's Carol?"

"She's good. Baby's good."

"This is Judith," Lori said with a smile. "Judith, you've heard daddy talk all about Daryl, right?" Judith crooked her finger at Daryl, and he leaned down in time to hear her whisper.

"Did you _really _eat squirrels?"

"You never ate a squirrel before?" Daryl asked with an amused smirk on his face. Judith shook her head.

"Yuck!"

"Yuck? Well, sometimes there ain't nothin' around _but_ squirrels."

"I like rabbit," she said with a nod.

"Rabbit. Alright, well, next time I go huntin', I'll get one just for you, alright?" Judith grinned, and Daryl straightened to see the thankful look on Lori's face.

"We don't want to wear out our welcome on the first day," Lori said softly. "But I'd like to see Carol."

"C'mon," Daryl urged, nodding toward the living room. "She can't wait to see ya."


	54. The Same Pain

Chapter 54: The Same Pain

Carol and Lori hugged for the longest time, and Daryl went around introducing Rick and Judith to Lydia and Luke and finally to baby Lucy. And then they retreated to the kitchen for a few minutes to give Carol and Lori a little time to talk. And when Lori pulled out of the hug, she sat next to Carol on the couch, both women in tears over seeing each other again.

"You look amazing," Lori said softly. "You have a beautiful family."

"So do you," Carol murmured. "Judith's beautiful."

"She is," Lori laughed. "And she's stubborn."

"Like both of her parents," Carol grinned. Lori's gaze lowered for a moment, and Carol reached over to squeeze her hand. "If blood was the only thing that mattered, where would Lydia be today?"

"He's a good dad. I see him with her, and I know he loves her like he loved Carl. But sometimes when I look in his eyes, he looks right through me. She came out just…looking like Shane. There was no question. Rick loves her, but he can't forgive me. I accepted it a long time ago, but we stuck together for the kids. Now that Carl's gone, it's like the wall crumbled down." Her shoulders slumped. "Andrea and Merle are going to let me stay with them for a while. Judith's going to go back and forth between me and Rick, and I think it's better this way. We aren't good for each other anymore."

"You know Andrea's son is…"

"I knew the second I saw him," Lori said with a little smile. "I looked at Andrea, and she looked at me, and while neither of us were each other's favorite person all those years ago, it was like we just _knew_. We'll tell them."

"You have to have people in this world," Carol said with a nod.

"More now than ever," Lori agreed.

"I'm sorry for everything you've gone through," Carol said gently, squeezing her hand again.

"When I lost Carl, I thought I'd die along with him. I've never felt anything like that before. I never wanted to know that feeling." She shook her head. "He talked about her a lot, you know? Sophia. He always imagined her growing up like him, what they'd be doing."

"I still imagine that," Carol said softly. "We talk to the kids about her. We want them to know their sister."

"Luke," Lori said softly. "He looks _so_ much like her."

"I know," Carol smiled. "Takes my breath away sometimes."

"You have so much here. "

"We have more now," Carol offered with a smile. "Come Spring, we'll have to start building and expanding. Who knows, we may have a whole town by the time we're grandparents."

"Grandparents," Lori balked. "Oh now that's something to think about." Carol laughed, and she peered over at the bassinet.

"I still can't believe everything that's happened," Carol sighed. "The world before was nothing but pain. The only good thing about it was Sophia. And then the farm went down, and Daryl and I had to rely on each other. And then Lydia came along." She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder if we'd have all this if we hadn't found Lydia. Sometimes I wonder if Daryl and I would still be walking on eggshells around each other."

"The way he looks at you?" Lori started. "He's looked at you that way since the CDC I think. Maybe before. It was always there, even more so at the farm. I just think he didn't quite know what to say or do, especially given everything you'd been through with Ed and Sophia. I think, even if you hadn't found Lydia, the two of you still would have found this." Lori gestured around, nodding at Lucy. "If anybody deserves something good in this world, it's the two of you."

"All of us. I like to think we survived for a reason. We learned how to be the kind of people we need to be." She looked toward the kitchen. "How's Rick doing with all of this?"

"He's tired. He was desperately trying to hold it together back in Alexandria. Losing Carl tipped him over the edge, and that's when Jesus and Aaron sort of took over." She sighed. "You know, when we got back into Georgia, he turned and looked at me, and he said 'maybe this time, someone else can be the hero.' And I just looked at him. He put so much on himself from the start. First it was about me and Carl, finding us. Then it was about Merle. Then Sophia. He always had something to do, something to fix, someone to save. And then the one person he tried so hard to protect was gone, and I think it aged him about ten years. So if you're worried he's going to want to take over, I don't think that's him anymore. Losing Carl knocked the wind out of him. I think he really just wants to grow old and watch his daughter grow up and grow into who she's supposed to be in this world."

"Lori." Lori looked up to meet Carol's gaze. "How are _you_?"

"I'm trying to hold it together," she admitted as she blinked back tears. "I had to. Someone had to." She took a shaking breath. "Judith still asks about him. I don't know what to tell her most days. She still doesn't quite understand. We tried to protect her form a lot of it, and thank God she doesn't remember everything we went through out on the road before Alexandria. But I remember. And I remember everything before. But some days…some days I almost can't see his face in my mind. I remember how soft and smooth his skin was the day he was born. I remember his laugh and how he used to like peanut butter on pancakes, even though I made the worst pancakes you could imagine." Carol grinned at that. "But some days, I can't even remember his face." A tear slipped down her cheek. "I would go and sit by his grave almost every day. And I could see him so clearly. And I can't do that now. Last night, I woke up in a panic, and all I wanted to do was go sit by his grave and tell him how much I miss him, and I can't do that."

"I know," Carol said softly. "Believe me. It doesn't get easier. You just learn to live with it. And sometimes, when you think about him, you'll find yourself smiling or laughing at a memory. You'll feel guilty at first, but then you'll realize that he wouldn't want you to. It's ok to laugh again. To smile. I never knew I'd love Lydia as much as I did, but that first night I knew I was supposed to be her mom. And then Luke came along. Now Lucy. I'm happy. I miss Sophia every day, but I'm happy. I'm still here, and I still remember her, and I can live with that."

Lori gasped softly and sniffled, wiping back her tears.

"Thank you," she choked out. "It feels good to have someone to talk to. I just hate that it's something we have in common."

"I know," Carol said quietly. "But I'm here. Anytime you need to talk. I'm here."

"Thank you," Lori sniffled. She stood then and made her way over to the bassinet to peer down at Lucy. "You look just like your mama, you know that? Hmm?" Carol smiled as she watched her friend fawn over the little one. When Lori straightened up, she turned. "I'm going to go check on Judith."

"Alright." She stood slowly and moved across the room to give Lori a proper hug. When Lori disappeared into the kitchen, Daryl came walking back out.

"You ok?" he asked, moving across the room and pulling her into a hug.

"Mmm," she murmured. "Seeing them just brings back a lot of memories."

"I know," he said quietly. "For me, too."

"Daryl?"

"There's something I need to do. Not right away, but maybe in the spring."

"Alright," he said slowly.

"I want you to do it with me."

"I'll do anything with you," he promised. "You know that." Carol smiled then and hugged him again.

"I know." When she pulled back, she sniffled. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He pulled her in for a soft kiss before the sound of boots on the hardwood floor distracted them. Carol pulled out of the kiss and looked to see Rick standing in the doorway.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

"Hey, come here," Carol urged, holding her arms out. Rick crossed the room and pulled her into a hug. Carol sighed and smiled when she pulled back, and she put her hand on Rick's arm.

"It's so good to have you here. Come sit down." Carol moved to sit on the couch. Daryl sat next to her, while Rick took a seat across the coffee table from them. "How are you?"

"Better, I think," he admitted. "Some days, I'm not sure, but today's the first time in a long time I woke up and felt like me. Maybe it's being back in Georgia. I don't know. Maybe it's relief. Judith's safe. We're here. Everybody can start re-building." He looked to Daryl. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your letting us stay here. There's a lot of history, I know."

"History?" Daryl asked. "We all saw what went down at Hershel's farm. We got separated. It happens. Ain't nothin' we can do to change that."

"Daryl's right," Carol said quietly. "It doesn't matter what happened. We're family. We're all together now, and we need to try to keep it that way. We've been building something here. First it was all for Lydia. For our family. But then Merle came along. Then Negan. And slowly, over time, we let people in. This is the place our kids and grandkids are going to inherit. We need to make it bigger and better so they can continue to grow and keep this place going long after we're gone." Rick nodded then, running his hand over the back of his neck.

"Losing Carl took a part of me I don't think I'll ever get back," Rick started. "When this whole thing started, I woke up in that hospital "Losing Carl took a part of me I don't think I'll ever get back," Rick started. "When this whole thing started, I woke up in that hospital bed thinking about one thing: my family. Getting back to them. And Carol, when Sophia went into those woods, all I could think about was how I'd lose my mind if it was Carl." He looked down. "She was scared out there, and you had every right to say the things you said when we came out of those woods without her."

"No," Carol said quietly, her voice cracking.

"I have to say this." He shook his head. "I left her in those woods. I thought she'd be ok if she listened, but I didn't account for her panicking. I didn't account for anything. I just wanted to get back to the group, to my son, and I wanted everything to be alright. And when I came back to the place I left her, I thought she listened. I thought she got back to you somehow. I'm so sorry I left her. If I knew then what I know now, I'd have done things different. I could have gotten her out of there, away from those walkers." He looked up to see Carol brushing tears from her cheek. Daryl leaned over to pull his arm around his wife. "I should have looked harder for her. After Carl got shot, I just…I shut down. I couldn't think, and I'm grateful Daryl was there. But it was _my_ responsibility. I'm the one that left her. I should have gone."

"Your family comes first," Carol said with a nod. "We had no idea where she was. And Carl was very much alive and needed his dad."

"Don't make excuses. I left her. There's nothing I can say or do to make up for that. All I can say is I'm sorry. She'd still be here if it wasn't for me."

"We don't change the past. We learn from it. You went back to look for her. You did. You tried when you could, and I saw that. And I'm sorry you know the same pain that I do now."

"This world's trying to kill all of us," Daryl added. "We know more now than we did then. All we can do is try to push back against it and keep going. We done that here. We're still doin' it."

"You're doing something right," Rick said with a nod.

"I could use your help with things," Daryl offered. Rick chuckled to himself and cleared his throat, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. Then he shook his head.

"I think I'll leave that to you, brother. I'm retired." Daryl looked at Carol then and back to Rick. "I just want to raise my daughter and teach her all the things I wish I knew when everything happened. I'll contribute. Of course, I'll earn my keep. I just can't make the calls anymore. I can't take losing one more person under my watch."

"Alright," Daryl agreed with a nod. "We got a good thing going here. Me, Carol, Merle, Negan. We keep things going. You need anything, you just ask."

"I appreciate that."

"Remember," Carol said softly, "this is for the kids. Without them, this place belongs to the dead. They're why we do this. They're why we fight and sweat and struggle. There has to be something left for them when we're gone. We do it for them."

_Author's Note: Alright, guys. One more chapter! I thank you all for the kind and encouraging feedback! I hope you've enjoyed the story! Stick around, one more to go! Thanks!_


	55. First and Last

Chapter 55: First and Last

As soon as spring came, Daryl made good on his promise to do something with Carol. For the first time, Carol wanted to go back to Hershel's farm and visit Sophia's grave. They made the journey, just the two of them, and found the farm was surprisingly desolate. The grass had grown up so tall it was hard to see where they were going, but once they caught sight of the house in a sad state of disrepair, finding the graves was easy.

The old fence posts were rotted and falling over, the old house's porch had collapsed, and nearly every window was busted out. Weeds and colorful wildflowers poked through the charred wood pile that once was the barn. And along the overgrown graves were little white flowers that reminded Carol of the first time she allowed herself to feel hope for her daughter.

He held her at Sophia's grave that day, and she broke in his arms like the grief was still brand new. And he heard her talk of the children and everything that had happened in the years since the farm. And when she was finished, she squeezed his hand and looked up at him, and he kissed her before wrapping her in a hug. And then, together, they went home.

The years passed by quickly. The survivors from Alexandria pitched in, and by the third year after Rick's arrival, they had another three acres of land to build and plant on. The construction was slow but steady, and by the time Lucy was reading her own bedtime stories, new houses, a lumber mill, and even a proper school had been built.

The survivors from Alexandria, including Rick and Lori, Glenn and Rosita, Aaron and Jesus as well as the children, had integrated into the community easily. Rick and Lori shared the responsibilities in raising their daughter, but their marriage dissolved. They were amicable for Judith, but they moved on.

Over time and with the presence of his son, Negan began to spend time with Lori, first just to get Judith and Henry together to play. But over time, Negan finally felt ready to let go of the past, and he and Lori eventually began to spend time together alone. Rick still hadn't moved on, but Judith always told her dad that it was ok to be happy. She sometimes played matchmaker, but Rick didn't seem to be in any hurry. He spent a lot of time alone, though Daryl would sometimes drag him out for the occasional hunting trip just to reconnect. For the most part, Rick was happy to just watch his daughter grow up and enjoy each day for what it was.

Glenn and Rosita married after the first year in Georgia, and after another year, baby Elijah came along to complete their family of five. It wasn't at all an uncommon occurrence to see Glenn chasing the little ones about in the yard. He'd come a long way from the pizza delivery boy Carol and Daryl had met in the quarry. He and Rosita worked as a team raising their kids and taking care of their family.

Rosita, Andrea and Carol helped with weapons training. With ammo and guns becoming a thing of the past, more primitive weapons were being made and used with increasingly expert skill. Bows and arrows replaced guns, while spears and machetes and knives were more prominent than a rifle.

Glenn was the go-to supply run guy. He still had a way of getting in and out of places in a pinch, and while it took longer to get places on horseback, the wagons they'd crafted out of old car seats and car frames to hitch the horses to still left plenty of room for items they might find in their searches.

But as the years went by, supply runs became less and less necessary. Each year the crops gave them enough food to store to feed everyone through the cold months, and while walkers still roamed the area, the woods were filled with wildlife. Hunting was easier than ever with the deer population being up.

Daryl and Merle led the hunting expeditions, teaching boys and girls as young as ten how to hunt and prepare their kills. It was everyone's least favorite lesson, but it was a necessary one. By the time Lydia turned twelve, she could track a buck and kill it faster than anyone else. Like father, like daughter.

Aaron and Jesus and their daughter Gracie often volunteered wherever they were needed. Sometimes it was at the infirmary, sometimes it was in the fields. They were the eyes and ears of the community, often helping oversee construction and organizing runs or hunting trips outside the walls.

Merle settled down quite a bit after Alexandria. He and Andrea made a home with Dylan, and after a couple of years, the boy got his wish for a sibling in the form of his baby sister Amy.

Carol and Daryl shared responsibilities with Merle and Negan and Andrea, and often times, they were happy to sit back and let things be while watching their children grow.

Every day, Lydia grew smarter and more skilled. She could sew, she could hunt, she could build and she could write. She, along with Judith Grimes, often wrote stories about the people and the happenings around the community. Carol kept those stories in a box under her bed, hoping one day to bind the pages all together as a history through a child's eyes.

Dog lived out his years playing with and keeping watch over the children, and when Lydia turned sixteen, he fell asleep at the foot of her bed, as he always did, and he never woke up. As heartbreaking as it was for the children to lose their beloved Dog, they knew that death was a part of life and Dog had been their protector since they were born. It was his time, and he had been a good dog, always.

Life went on, children were born, and families were made. The world around them continued to die, continued to try to bring them down with it, but they fought, and they went to bed each night with the satisfaction that they'd made it one more day, and they were one day closer to a world where the dead weren't beating on their gates.

Carol and Daryl watched with pride as their children grew up and came into their own. As much as Luke looked like Sophia, Sophia's personality and smile lived on in Lucy. She was shy and sweet but smart as a whip. She craved to be like Lydia, to venture out on her own, to experience the world outside the walls, and while the idea scared the hell out of both Carol and Daryl, they prepared her the best they could.

"What's this?" Lucy asked on her thirteenth birthday, when Carol handed her something wrapped in a cloth.

"This is for you," Carol said with a smile, brushing her daughter's reddish brown hair back from her eyes. "It was mine for a very long time, and now I want you to have it." Lucy unwrapped the cloth to find the knife Carol used to wear on her belt. It was the one with the knuckle guard. Old and worn but still sharp and shining.

"It's mine? You mean it?" Lucy asked with wide, blue eyes.

"Only if you promise you'll be careful with it."

"Oh, I promise!"

"I want you to come with me."

"Out there?" Lucy asked. Carol nodded. Lucy grinned and bit her lip to contain her excitement. "Your dad's getting the horses."

"Is he coming, too?"

"Nope, this is just us. We can take care of ourselves, right?" Lucy nodded excitedly.

"Go get ready. Riding boots and a jacket. Tuck your knife into your belt like I've shown you before." Lucy did just that and hurried off to get ready for the trip.

Carol turned and went outside where Daryl was waiting with both horses. His shaggy hair was cut a little shorter now and it was mostly grey, but those eyes were still as blue as ever, and that smile he flashed her made her heart skip a beat as it did all those years ago.

"She ready?"

"Almost," Carol said with a sad little smile.

"You sure you wanna do this?"

"I did this with Lydia and with Luke. I need them to know." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly.

"Be safe?" he asked.

"Nine lives, remember?" She kissed him again, and when she pulled back, he grinned. "What?"

"Love you." Carol's face lit up with a smile. Even after all these years, those words still felt new, and her heart jumped in her chest.

"I love you, too."

...

"What is this place?" Lucy asked, as she and Carol walked, leading their horses through the tall grass.

"This was home a long time ago."

"Oh," Lucy said quietly, peering up at what was left of the old house. The houses had burnt years ago, but the old chimney still stood. They turned toward the small row of crosses that marked the ground, and Lucy looked at her mom. "Is this…"

Carol knelt down next to one of the markers. In faint, white lettering SOPHIAwas scrawled across the wood.

"You remind me so much of Sophia. I lost her before I knew how to survive in this world. If I'd known then what I know now, I could have saved her." Lucy knelt down on the ground across from her mother and put her hand on the cross. "You were lucky. You were born in this new world. You had two parents who loved you and knew how to keep you safe. We knew how to teach you how to keep yourself safe. Sophia didn't have that. I was a different mom with Sophia. I loved her more than anything, but I couldn't keep her safe. Her daddy wasn't a good man. She was terrified by this world. She was defenseless and helpless, and she was lost to this world. When Lydia and Luke and you came into our lives, your dad and I promised that you would have a future."

She reached out and touched Lucy's cheek. Lucy sniffled, and Carol brought her hand down to the grass over Sophia's grave.

"She was my first baby. You're my last baby. And this grave is a reminder that every moment matters. I brought Lydia here when she was your age. And then Luke. Now you. I need you to know how very much I love you and how important it is that you know what that means. Before Lydia came along, I was lost, and I was scared of being a mom again. But I loved her, and she showed me I could be the kind of mom I always wanted to be for Sophia. And I loved Luke when he came along, and you. And I'm still learning things about this world. I want you to learn them, too. I know you want to explore and think you're ready for that, but there's still time. There's still a lot to learn. And, it's ok to be scared. A little bit of fear is good. But just remember that this is _our_ world. We fight to live in it, and we fight to keep going. That's what I wish I'd been able to teach Sophia." Carol stood up then, brushing the dirt and grass from her knees. Lucy stood up and hugged her mother.

"I'll be ok, Mom," she promised.

"You're a year older than Sophia was when she died. There's a reason I want you prepared before you leave the walls on your own. I know Hershel and Coco and Eli like to sneak out sometimes, and I know you want to go with them. But you're still learning. I want you safe, and I want you to be smart."

"I will be."

"You're growing up. You're not a kid anymore, but you still have some growing to do, you understand me?"

"I understand. I'll be careful, and I won't go out by myself until I'm ready." She looked a little disappointed, but Carol knew her daughter had a good head on her shoulders. She knew this was important.

"Good," Carol offered, hugging her again and kissing her forehead. "I love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

"Alright. Let's go home."

...

"How'd it go?" Daryl asked, as Carol crawled into bed that night.

"I think she understands. She's just so high-spirited, Daryl. She's got that wild streak in her, and I know she wants to go over that wall so badly."

"She ain't stupid. And she can track and hunt."

"But she's still a child."

"I agree," Daryl said with a nod. "I'm just sayin', if she's gonna make a mistake, she's gonna learn. She can take care of herself."

"I know," Carol sighed. "She's my baby." She chuckled to herself. "I'm turning into that overprotective mom."

"Ya got every right to do that," Daryl pointed out. "Lucy listens. Probably our best behaved kid."

"Hmm," Carol agreed, though the frown on her face told Daryl she wasn't a hundred percent convinced. Daryl curled his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss.

"She's growin' up. That just means it won't be long 'til we got the house all to ourselves again."

"Again? Didn't we have it to ourselves for like, one night?" Carol asked with a laugh. "And that's before you ever even touched me."

"Hey, that's right," Daryl recalled. "Well, I was thinkin', maybe someday soon, we could have that second honeymoon."

"Second?" she laughed. "The first one was Merle watching Lydia so we could have the house to ourselves."

"Yep," Daryl said with a grin. "Thought maybe a repeat of that might do us both some good."

"Daryl Dixon, that might be the best idea you've had in years." Carol grinned and kissed him softly. She knew their lives were changing. Lydia was already living on her own, spending more and more time with Henry than Daryl was comfortable with, though she was grown and able to make her own decisions. Luke and Lucy were still home for the time being, but they were growing up fast. But, it only served as a reminder to Carol and Daryl that they'd done something right. Their children were healthy and thriving, the house was still a little chaotic, and the nights were long and quiet. The nightmares that once plagued their nights were replaced with comforting silence and security in each other's arms. They'd come a long way from the two struggling stragglers from the Greene farm. They'd come a long way from the two people who'd come together to give an orphaned child a chance at a life she'd otherwise never have known.

They had raised three wonderful, bright children, and they'd survived it all. They had pulled together out of necessity and fallen in love, and everything that happened after that just fell into place in just the right ways, and now, they had almost everything they could hope for in this cruel, dark world. They'd built this life from the ground up, and that was something. All they had to do now was simply live.

The End


End file.
